


Responsibility and Commitment

by CassandraSpayke



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: New Republic Era - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-03-10 15:24:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 30,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3295355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CassandraSpayke/pseuds/CassandraSpayke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is no small thing, to be second-in-command of a galaxy wide smuggling operation or head of a Jedi Praxeum. Responsibility and commitment are matters not be taken and given lightly, especially when it comes to marriage. </p><p>Yes, another missing moments from VOTF story. </p><p>Set in the 15 days between leaving Nirauan and the signing of the treaty on the Chimeara.  "Legends" canon complicit up to VOTF.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"I don't believe it," he murmured, still reading. "Mara, he found it. He found it."

"Wonderful. Found _what?"_

"What else?" Luke looked up at her. "Thrawn's copy of the Caamas Document."

\- _Vision of the Future by Timothy Zahn, Chapter 42_  
  


* * *

Mara stared at him, eyes wide in disbelief. "The Caamas Document? No. You're kidding."

"Come and take a look for yourself."

She left the pilot's chair and crossed to the droid alcove, falling to her knees beside Luke. "Is it complete?"

"Near as I can tell. I'm sure the NRI will put its best slicers on it before they pronounce it authentic, but…." He smiled at her, elation radiating freely. "This should stop new conflicts from breaking out."

"And here I thought my best contribution to the continued existence of the New Republic was crashing my ship." She laughed, partly because Luke was so happy and his joy poured across their new bond. But mostly because nothing less than finding the document that would save the New Republic from self-destructing could be the fitting conclusion to what had been the most strange, frustrating, terrifying, amazing, wonderful three weeks of her life.

"Wonderful, yes," Luke murmured, picking up her thought. She looked down and realized she'd laced her fingers with his. How did that happen? Yes, this new awareness, this new…thing…was wonderful, but-

His finger lifted her chin. And his lips closed over hers.

The tiny portion of her mind that wasn't fully occupied with kissing him back and feeling his emotions – her emotions – their emotions flow through their Force bond, was left to wonder at how natural it felt. How right. If anyone had told her, when she and the crew of the Starry Ice rescued Luke from the Cavirlhu pirate base, that a month later she would be wrapped tight in his arms without any hesitation, any embarrassment, any awkwardness at all – she would have taken the speaker's head off. Literally.

But that was then, this was now, and….

All semblance of conscious thought fled as the kiss deepened – her initiative, his, she didn't know and truthfully didn't care. His hands tangled in her still damp hair as she rose on her knees to fit herself more closely against his chest.

But just as her fingers were reaching for the top fastener of his jumpsuit, Luke abruptly pulled away.

She blinked, trying to regain equilibrium. "Is this payback for earlier? Because as much as I was enjoying it, I really didn't want to survive the clone chamber only to die of hypothermia—"

"Mara." His fingers were still intertwined in her hair, but now they were gently exploring her scalp. "What happened to your head?" He lingered in one area, pressed softly.

"Ow." She raised her hand to meet his, and discovered a lump the size of a Coruscant game fowl egg. "I don't know. Must have hit it somewhere along the way. Perhaps when I was in the hibernation trance."

He undid the clasp that held what remained of her braid, the better to part her hair so he could see the area surrounding her injury. "You're bleeding," he said. His voice was calm, but underneath Mara caught a current of swirling emotions. He was reliving the trepidation he felt when he first spied her floating in the pool of water after they escaped the cloning chamber. Floating just like his vision. And he feared that she had, indeed, hit her head during their escape and died—

"But I didn't die." Her hand found his and closed over his fingers, stilling their careful exploration of her wound. She caught his gaze, held it steady with hers. "I meant what I said earlier. If this-," she waved her free hand back and forth between them, "-is going to work-"

"Relationship, Mara. The word you're searching for is relationship. You can say it. I have faith in you." His gaze remained locked on hers, but a corner of his mouth twitched upward.

She rolled her eyes, but the gesture was free of its usual animosity. "Fine. Relationship," she drew out the word. "If it's going to work, you have to move past this fear of harming the other person. Harming me in particular. Besides," she said, throwing him a lop-sided smirk, "you, of all people, know that my skull is plenty thick."

"Point taken." He picked up her hand, bringing her palm to his lips for a light kiss. "Thick skull."

She laughed, even as an odd thrill traveled from her scalp to her toes at the feel of his lips against her skin. "That wasn't precisely my point, but it will…." A hole in the left shoulder of his jumpsuit, its edges charred and darkly stained, caught her gaze. She cautiously pushed the cloth aside to reveal a nasty, angry-looking wound underneath. To her eyes, it almost rivaled the direct blast she had taken from a Chiss charric. The direct blast that put her in a healing trance for five days. "Is this from the sentinel droid?" she asked. "The bolt I didn't deflect in time?" Worry for him and anger at herself chased each other through her mind.

"It's nothing." He shrugged.

"You don't know that. Even if the burn isn't bothering you, Force only knows what was in that lake water. There could be parasites, infectious agents, a hundred alien diseases-" She stopped her list when a wide grin lit up his face. "What?"

"Not so easy to avoid concern, is it?"

She narrowed her gaze at him. "Please note I am not refusing to enter into a-," she started to wave her hand, realized what she was doing, and dropped it to her side, "-relationship out of fear of hurting the other person."

"Neither am I," he pointed out in all complete honesty. "I'm all the way in. So get used to the worry for your well-being, Mara. Comes with the-," and he waved his hand between them, "-territory."

She opened her mouth to retort, took another look at the blaster wound on his shoulder, and thought better of it. "If I say fine, you can continue your overprotective ways with minimal - minimal, not zero - objection from me, will you go into a healing trance and take care of that?"

"I thought the goal was to avoid unnecessary use of the Force?" He continued to grin. Even without the bond she could tell he was enjoying this. As was she, to be truthful.  
"It's not unnecessary if it saves you weeks in a medbay thanks to an alien infection no one knows how to cure," she said tartly.

"Another good point." His thumb traced abstract patterns on her palm, causing shivers to dance up and down her spine. Shivers that were, on the whole, rather pleasant and not unwelcome. "How long until we get to our first destination?" he asked.

She checked her chrono. "We should be dropping out of hyperspace right about…now." A soft alarm began to chime from the flight deck, punctuating her words. "I programmed a short jump first, in case Parck and Fel were able to record our vector. You might want to man the weapons system, on the off chance this ship has a tracking system and they have friends ready and waiting for us."

She started to rise, wincing slightly as stiff muscles protested their stay on a cold metal surface. Luke sprung to his feet first and helped pull her upright. "Anything other than a bump on the head I should know about?" he asked, running his gaze over her jumpsuit, seeking new rips and tears.

She shook her head. "Just some soreness. Nothing time won't heal." She raised an eyebrow, cutting off his next suggestion. "One of us needs to stay alert in case anything happens with the ship. Neither of us is familiar with this alien technology, after all. Besides," and she smiled, the first open, joyous smile she'd given anyone in a long time, "It's my turn to wake you up."


	2. Chapter 2

They both agreed they felt no threat as their borrowed ship entered realspace. The sensor outlays confirmed no immediate traffic in the area. Mara leaned back in the pilot's chair and sighed, the tension slowly leaving her shoulders. They were truly and completely free of the Hand of Thrawn.

What they did with their knowledge about the Hand of Thrawn's existence was still a concern, however.

She glanced over at Luke. He felt the same as she did, she sensed, a mixture of relief at being free of retaliation plus elation at bringing the Caamas Doument home with them. But now that she knew what to look for, she also detected an increase in his use of pain suppression techniques. That blaster wound had to hurt, despite his casual dismissal.

"Artoo, did the ship get the latest coordinates? Everything set?" she called back to the droid alcove.

The droid whistled an affirmative.

"Where to next?" Luke asked. "New Republic outpost or one of Karrde's installations?"

"At first I thought New Republic, considering what Artoo is carrying. But while I have every respect for your and Leia's ability to keep leaks contained, I know I have excellent leverage over Karrde's employees. And the less people talk about this ship, or where it might come from, the better. We can check in, and then assess how to best get the Caamas Document into the right hands with the minimal amount of questions." Mara pushed on the lever. A slight shake from the vessel, and the stars blurred and ran together outside the canopy.

"Good thinking." She was right about the wound. His voice showed the strain, even if he was doing his best to shield the pain from her.

She extricated herself from her crash webbing and stood beside his chair. "The closest sector relay base is Comra. We should be there in five hours. You want to stay here for the healing trance? There might also be pilot couches in the back."

He released his own crash webbing and stood up. "This wasn't the most comfortable of chairs the last time. Let's see what else is on offer."

He held out his hand to her. She took with only the barest of hesitations. There was a time when, if he had put out his hand expecting her to hold it for any reason other than their immediate survival, he would've found himself the possessor of two cybernetic prosthetics instead of one. But now, all she could do was marvel at how natural, how  _right_  being with him felt.

The Force, after all, was known to work in mysterious ways.

As she suspected, there were indeed two pilot's couches at the back of the ship, one on either side of the narrow compartment. Storage bins lined the walls above, and a small cooker and icer were built in to the facing wall. It made sense; this was a long range vessel, meant to be flown by more than one pilot, and they would need supplies, food and a place to rest during long hyperspace voyages.

She searched the bins and found two thin heat-reflective blankets stuffed in a dark corner, but not much more. Standard Imperial procedure: after each mission, the ships would be stripped of all non-necessary items. The supplies would then be counted, put back into general inventory, and reassigned as needed. They were lucky the blankets had been missed.

She handed one to Luke, wrapping the other around her shoulders to ward off the chill. The Chiss, apparently, liked their temperatures on the cool side. The humans flying with them must have learned to adapt.

Luke dropped onto the nearest couch and pulled her down beside him, wrapping his blanket tight around the two of them. For a few minutes they sat in silence, content to rest in relative safety and comfort for the first time in weeks.

Their new bond allowed Mara to follow the flow of his thoughts – not words per se, but the colors, the emotions, the play as they tumbled and slid against each other. It was like plunging one's hands into a bowl of luminous gems, lifting them, and watching the jewels stream through one's fingers in a brilliant display.

And he was watching her thoughts, she knew, even though hers didn't have the same vivid radiance as his. He just innately…shone…in the Force. He always had, to her. Ever since Wayland. Which might account for why, after the events on Byss, she'd found it so difficult to be near him for longer than a week.

She knew she had a responsibility to develop her Force skills. The galaxy made that blatantly clear to her time after time, no matter how fast and how far she tried to run from it. And completing her training under Luke's tutelage would have fulfilled it.

But she also knew that once she gave a commitment, it was near-impossible for her to break it. No matter the personal cost. She once committed herself to the Empire's cause with her entire heart, soul and mind, and she almost didn't escape from from it alive. She certainly didn't escape from it whole. Pieces of her were yet missing.

And she couldn't, wouldn't, allow that to happen to her again.

While the core of Luke's presence continued to burn bright despite his experiences on Byss, the edges became murky, dank, decaying. The seeping darkness repelled her, but at the same time it held a strong fascination, an affinity that touched the deep, hidden place Palpatine had carved in her mind.

This dichotomy, the pull and push of the light and the dark, meant she couldn't stay away from Luke for very long. She was still furious at herself for making up the flimsiest of excuses to stop by Yavin IV, especially when Callista had been in residence. But she couldn't stay near him, either, and remain her own person. Not while there was a still a dark side influence on his actions. The combination of the light she admired, even craved, and the darkness that had the power to command her was no match for even her stubborn will. She would've been subsumed like so much space dust in a supernova, and hating him for it.

But now…she leaned her head on his shoulder as he tightened his arms around her. He would always have a dark side taint, a reminder and a warning. Just as she would never be fully free of the Emperor's Hand. But the darkness no longer ate at his edges, threatening his center. It was merely a waft of something distasteful, easily waved away. She could walk at his side step in step, committed to him and to her responsibilities as a Jedi Knight, without fear of losing herself in the process.

"I wish you had come up with more excuses to visit Yavin," Luke murmured into her hair.

She laughed. "This is where I tell you to stay out of my head, but since I'm shamelessly eavesdropping on yours, it doesn't have the same impact."

He loosened his grip on her just enough to enable him to turn and look her in the eye. "I'm curious. Why didn't you say anything about the dark side earlier? Byss was nine years ago."

She searched his gaze, and his emotions. There was no condemnation, no regret. Just curiosity, as he said. "That would have gone over oh so well. The Emperor's Hand telling the Jedi Master that one of them is acting under a dark side influence, and it isn't her."

"Didn't stop you in the caves," he pointed out.

She shrugged. "Perhaps because it was just us. No Jedi Academy, no New Republic officials, no smugglers or pirates. No one automatically agreeing with you just because you're the last surviving Jedi Master, or suspecting me of ulterior motives because of my past or my employment." Her mouth quirked upwards. "Besides, you pretty much arrived at the same conclusion by yourself. Any earlier and all my fine lecturing would've fallen on deaf ears."

He nodded and pulled her close against him once more. "I suppose you're right. No, I can sense that you're right. I guess I should just be thankful that this path was finally cleared, and we're on it now."

"Even without the dark side influence, I don't know that I could have stayed on Yavin IV and completed my training the way you wanted me to." She shook her head. "Not then. I wasn't ready."

"I know." His hand came up to stroke her hair. "I always knew that you needed time, and lots of space, to work though who and what you wanted to be." She felt his smile more than saw it. "But you can't blame me for hoping you'd be able to work some of that out while on the same planet as me. Which is why I pushed you regarding your training."

"Well, you get to train me now." She pulled slightly away, sitting up straight. "Better late than never. And speaking of things that are late, healing trance. You. Now."

He threw her a look of mock annoyance, but she could sense the exhaustion starting to overwhelm the pain suppression. "Are you always going to be this demanding?'

"You've known me how long?" Mara rose from the couch so he could stretch out.

"Right. At least there isn't a blaster being held to my head."

"It can be arranged." She spread the blanket over him, her hands lingering as she pulled it over his chest. "Pleasant healing, Luke."

He caught her left hand. "Same wake up phrase as you, Mara. Let's see if you can say it." His gaze blazed brightly with amusement, but a touch of trepidation lingered deep in the blue depths.

Heat rose in her cheeks, despite the cool temperature of the room. He was referring to her doubts in the cloning chamber as to whether he could speak the words out loud. To her. "I accept the challenge." She bent down, pressed a quick but fierce kiss on his lips. "Now heal."

She watched as he slipped into the trance, his luminous thoughts dimming as their movements calmed and stilled. When she was sure he was safely under, she pulled her hand from his grasp and returned to the flight deck.

Artoo whistled a question. "He's going to sleep until we get to Comra," she told the droid. "How about you? Anything we should know about your systems? You took a lot of bumps, not to mention an unexpected swim."

Artoo chortled a negative reply, followed by a series of beeps and chirps too fast for her to follow. She glanced at the display scene built into the droid alcove and smiled. "Yes, I'm sure Threepio will be very jealous when he learns you saved the New Republic by finding the Caamas Document."

Another whistled question. "Will I power down, too? No, Someone needs to watch the ship."

If a droid could sound indignant, Artoo fit the description.

"Of course I trust you. But this is Imperial tech—"

Another series of loud electronic sounds.

"Yes, I'd heard you provided vital communication with the Death Star's systems. I have no doubt you can handle the Imperial codes. But the ship is also Chiss—"

A noise that sounded distinctly like a human sticking its tongue out and blowing it disparagingly came from Artoo.

She gave up. She knew when she was in a argument she couldn't win. "Okay, okay," she said. "Wake me when we're a half-hour out from Comra. Tell me, does this tendency to be protective come from Luke, or did he learn it from you?"

A self-satisfied bleep was her only response.

Truth to tell, she didn't need to be scolded by a droid to feel sleep calling her name. And if they did meet enemies on their way to Comra, a few hours of rest to recharge her badly depleted stores of energy would not be remiss.

And for once, dreams would be very welcome. She returned to the pilot's chair, and drew the blanket she wore tighter around her shoulders. The flight deck was cooler than the pilot rest area in the back, and her clothes and hair were still not completely dry. But the memories of the past day, hugged tight like the priceless treasures they were, promised to keep her more than warm. Mara strapped herself in, and closed her eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

"I love you, Luke."

Luke blinked, consciousness returning one stiff muscle at a time. Waking up from a Force healing trance was mentally disorienting and physically uncomfortable at best. Mouth dry, stomach empty and reflexes slow and creaky, it was far from his list of preferable activities.

Until now.

Now, with Mara Jade telling him she loved him, he decided he liked waking up from a Force trance. A lot. He turned his head to smile at her as she kneeled by his couch. Her brilliant green gaze softened as she felt him come back to full awareness through their bond, and she bent over to press a soft, lingering kiss against his lips.

If this was how she accepted all his challenges, he very much looked forward to the next fifty or sixty years.

She pulled back and raised an eyebrow. "Fifty years, Skywalker? Really? With your talent for getting into trouble?"

"But you'll be there. I figure that will even the odds." He struggled to sit up, and winced when his left shoulder hit the bulkhead.

Instantly she was at his side. "Let me see."

"I'm fine. Just residual stiffness from the trance."

She gently probed at his wound. "It's still there, but at least it's a healthy pink instead of a festering red. You really do need to teach me how to do that."

"It's at the top of the list. How long was I out?" The ship was no longer moving at lightspeed, he noticed.

"Just over five hours. I thought about leaving you under for longer, but we've dropped into orbit over Comra and, well, something tells me you should be awake for this."

"Your danger sense?" Even as he spoke, Luke was reaching out to the Force, seeking to identify possible threats. But instead he felt… He turned toward Mara, his mind teaming with questions.

"I told you." Mara's gaze was wide and full of wonder. "You sense it, too. Joy. Relief. Glee. From nearly everyone on the planet."

Their landing on Comra was uneventful, if one counted landing in the middle of a full-on impromptu celebration as normal. Mara's personal access code meant no questions were asked when they requested clearance to land, although no one appeared to be alert or even occupying their posts. It was a good thing both Mara and he were expert pilots, Luke thought, for all help they received from the port services droid left alone to handle the complicated landing guidance system.

They exited the Chiss-Imperial ship, Mara careful to leave it in a landing bay to the side and out of casual sight. Not that they had to worry too much about attracting attention from the wrong people. Karrde maintained his relay station in Jaegartown, a medium sized city located in the center of a landmass in the planet's southern hemisphere. The size of the city was big enough so that the inhabitants were used to seeing off-worlders, and they didn't ask too many questions about comings and goings. But Jaegartown itself was too small and lacked the industries or access to natural resources that would attract pointed attention from either the Imperial Remnant or the New Republic. In addition, the native Comraians were small, bipedal aliens with iridescent scaly skin, deeply set eyes and large slit noses used for both breathing and communicating. While Comraians could learn and understand Basic, speaking it was a different matter. Therefore, most humans found it hard to have a casual conversation with a native.

In other words, Jaegartown was a perfect rest and refueling stop for smugglers seeking to trade in this quadrant yet maintain a low profile. And thanks to some "found" experimental tech in Karrde's possession – Luke decided it would be best not to question too closely just how it made its way into Karrde's hands – the communication resources rivaled anything on Coruscant. Actually, considering the current bureaucratic morass that served as the New Republic's requisitioning system, Comra's was even better.

As soon as Luke, Mara and Artoo left the spaceport, they were swept into a sea of singing, chanting inhabitants. Most of them were happily drunk despite the sun's position directly overhead, indicating that local planet time was close to midday. After not too many minutes, Luke's ears rang from the cacophony of noisemakers, drums and even celebratory blaster fire. Despite Jedi senses working overtime, he barely managed to avoid tripping over a collection of empty Forvish ale bottles left in the street. A merrymaker bounced into Mara and Luke drew her closer to him, but the Comraian only smiled, burped and danced away.

"What is going on?" Luke asked. He couldn't get a clear read on the Comraian minds, as was usual with alien species. "Local holiday?"

"I have no idea," Mara muttered. "If so, it's a new one to me. And damn inconvenient."

He threw her a quick glance. The longer they remained unmet by anyone from Karrde's organization, the tighter her mouth compressed into thin line. "This is not the way Karrde and I run things," she said. "It seems we've grown a bit too lax with the outlaying stations."

Luke squeezed the hand he held. Mara and Karrde oversaw a vast enterprise, almost as big and as complicated as the New Republic government itself. She couldn't be everywhere at once.

"Remember that the next time you kick yourself over not personally handling every galactic crisis that pops up," she growled under her breath. But she returned his pressure with a squeeze of her own. Still, as they fought their way against the tide of Comraian revelry toward the low, unassuming building Karrde used as his base, he could feel her mind churn with checklists of the reports, improvements, and personnel changes she would make.

They managed to arrive at the station with no further jostling, once Artoo engaged his arc welder to clear a path for them. Mara punched her access code into the building's security system. "You're going to need a new touchpad if you keep abusing it that way," Luke murmured, hoping to diffuse the tension he could feel massing around her.

She didn't look at him. "This is my business, Skywalker." Her arms were wrapped tight around her chest, her thoughts gathered just as close, as she waited for the system to acknowledge her.

"So stay out of it? Point taken." He didn't really expect any other response. He knew better than to joke with her when she was infuriated. But old habits died hard, no matter how quick one wanted the death to occur.

She turned to look at him, her gaze softening. To his surprise, she wasn't angry. At least not at him. "No, that's not what I meant. This is my  _business_. Well, mine and Karrde's. This station is my responsibility, Luke. And I-" The hiss of hydraulics as the door opened cut off her words.

The door revealed a large room, ringed with individual lbays that scanned for transmissions and holobays for private comms. A knot of men and women stood gathered around the large listening station that dominated the center of the space, intent on its various screens and talking amongst themselves. More bottles of alcohol, this time whiskey and rum, stood empty on various work areas. No one looked up as Luke, Mara and Artoo entered.

Mara cleared her throat. Loudly.

Finally, a large man tore his eyes away from the screen in front of him and blinked up at them. "What the...Jade? You're alive! And who is that with you...by stars, it's Skywalker! Welcome!" He got up from his chair and bounded over to them, hand extended. Luke shook it.

Mara didn't. "We landed over an hour ago, Ki'stan," she said with a scowl. "You're the station chief. Why aren't you following the established procedures? Explain." But Luke could feel her relax, slightly, in the face of the man's obvious joy at seeing them.

Ki'stan didn't seem to notice that she snubbed his hand. He practically danced around them, like the overgrown canine he resembled. "This day can't get better," he chortled. "First the peace treaty, now you walk through the door with all your limbs intact—"

"Wait. Peace treaty?"

"What peace treaty?"

Luke and Mara spoke at the same time.

Ki'stan stopped moving, his bushy gray eyebrows nearly meeting in the middle of his forehead. "The peace treaty between the New Republic and the Imperial Remnant, of course. You really didn't know? Say, where were you, Jade, anyway? Karrde made us focus on slicing any and all transmissions, looking for references to your location."

Mara narrowed her gaze. "Really. So where were you when I called for landing assistance?"

Ki'stan held up his hands. "Hey, can't catch them all, not on a day like today! Here, take a comm screen for yourself. You'll want to see this. We still can't believe it." He paused, and gave Mara a wide, relieved smile. "And I really am glad you're okay. Stuff has piled up, what with both you and Karrde out of commission—"

"What happened to Karrde?" This time, Luke and Mara used the same words.

Ki'stan looked between them. He raised his brows so high, they almost hit his hairline. "If you don't know, then no one does. Just handed the reins over to Aves saying something about a vital mission only Karrde could handle. And, well, you know Aves." He shrugged, and then broke into another face-stretching grin. "Everyone will be glad you're back, Jade. At least on the communications side. Aves really only cares about negotiating trade deals these days."

Luke exchanged glances with Mara. Neither of them felt any guidance from the Force regarding Karrde's fate, but neither they did get the sense that anything disturbing had happened to him. "If there is a peace treaty, " Luke began.

"I know, " she said. "Ki'stan, can you get us a secure channel? And I mean secure," she stressed the last word. "And an empty, swept room. If I find a listening device..." her voice trailed off ominously.

"But of course! Let me see what we have available. It might take some time to check..."

"You don't know your resources off the top of your head?" Mara's voice was low. Too low.

Ki'stan finally seemed to pick up on Mara's mood. "We're a bit, um, overwhelmed by the news. I, ah, hope you won't think this how we normally conduct business?" He looked hopefully at her. "Big day today. Big, big day."

She didn't respond in words. Her expression, however, spoke volumes.

He visibly swallowed, and turned his head toward the staff members still crowded together in the middle of the room. "Cinzi! Hrrssk! Get away from that comm station and make sure HoloBay D is prepped for security protocols 54R6, now!" He bustled away, clapping his hands and shooing people back to their work areas.

Mara turned to Luke. She kept her outward attitude of annoyed impatience, but he could sense the conflicting emotions swirling around her, a kaleidoscope of shifting colors and textures, tumbling too fast for him to catch and identify. Probably too fast for her to sort through as well, he thought.

As were his own emotions. The war had been part of his life for so long, had shaped his life so long. Images spilled across a mental screen, flashing one after the other: two burned skeletons under twin suns, a vibrant planet vaporized into dead rocks, a long lethal trench with no room for error, Leia in robes of white, Leia in snow gear of white, Han in carbonite, Leia's tear-stained face,  _his father,_ Jabba's palace and a dancer dressed in blue _,_  an Emperor casting lightning without end,  _his father,_ ghost-tinged visions waving goodbye, artful Grand Admirals and superweapons... And the deaths. Some more senseless than others, some that never should have happened, all of them an unspeakable waste.

The announcement of the end of the long, chaotic, lethal conflict certainly brought happiness. But it also brought regrets, anger, harsh disappointment.

Mara touched his hand. If anyone had their life molded and distorted by the Empire, the Rebellion and the ongoing conflict, it was she. But a slow, sweet smile played on her lips as her gaze caught and held his. "Peace," she breathed.

"Peace," he agreed, with an answering smile that started on his face and ended deep in his soul.

They stood together for a moment, their bodies apart but their minds entwined, and drank in the promise of the word.


	4. Chapter 4

Many hours later, Luke shut down the holodisplay in the secure room assigned to him and Mara by Ki'stan. Getting a message of any length to Leia had been difficult from this distance, even with Karrde's state of the art communications arrays and Artoo doing his best to run interference with the systems. At least they both knew their twin had survived yet another crisis. The holonews brought the welcome information that the destruction of Bothawui had been diverted, for now, and Luke hoped that the Caamas Document held by Artoo would stave off any future brushfires.

Mara managed to contact Karrde, who had somehow gotten himself onboard an Imperial Star Destroyer with Admiral Pellaeon, of all people. She told Luke both Karrde and she agreed to reserve the tales of what occurred to each of them over the last three weeks for a time when they could talk in person. Alone.

Of the rumored return of Grand Admiral Thrawn, the holonews was silent. Almost too silent, Luke thought. He looked over at Mara, sitting at a desk across the room, nose deep in a datapad with a stack of data cards piled up next to her. Her sacrifice may have indeed saved the New Republic. According to the most reliable reports, the treaty was apparently Pellaeon's idea. Luke knew the Imperial admiral was an honorable man, but also highly perceptive and dedicated to his cause. If he could draw on the advice of Parck and Fel, plus the resources of whatever they had hidden…the Imperial Remnant might have never needed to sue for peace.

She looked up and caught his gaze. "Finished talking to Leia?"

"In a way. The signal was too weak to do much more than wave at each other. But at least she knows we're alive."

Mara nodded and put down her datapad, rubbing her eyes. They'd both taken advantage of the station's communal 'fresher to scrub off Nirauan dirt and dried lake scum, and were now sporting new jumpsuits. Mara gave their old ones to the station's custodial droid with orders to incinerate them. Luke was finally free of the scratchy facial hair he'd grown while maneuvering the caves, while Mara used up nearly an entire bottle of cleanser on her hair. But it had been a momentary break in an otherwise frustrating scramble to set up communications with the people who mattered the most. Luke still ached to receive a decent report from the Jedi academy, and Mara hadn't stopped reviewing business accounts since she finished trading messages with Karrde.

Her damp red-gold hair gleamed in the room's artificial light. Stray strands curled against cheeks turned rosy by her recent sanistream. But her green eyes were absent their usual bright intensity, while violet shadows took up residence underneath them. Luke feared that she would be buried in datacards before much longer. Already new communiqués marked to her attention were starting to arrive. Ki'stan couldn't wait to spread the news of her safe return.

"As nice as it is in here," Luke began.

"We need to get the Caamas Document to the New Republic as soon as possible," Mara finished. "Oh, don't give me that look. I don't need to be in your head to know that's the only possible next step." She picked up a bag provided by Ki'stan and started to shovel data cards into it. "I'll start prepping for departure."

"That wasn't precisely what I was going to say," he said. That proved she was tired. "As nice as it is in here, we should find sleeping accommodations."

Her hands stopped moving. "Oh," she said. She held her thoughts and emotions just as immobile.

"You're about to fall face first into your datapad," he pointed out. "You need sleep."

"I got a few hours on the ship while you were in the healing trance," she said. She finished loading the bag but kept her mind still. "I'm fine."

"Lesson number two: in addition to needing air to function properly, a Jedi requires rest. Especially when fatigue is threatening to shut her down."

She threw him a mock-annoyed look. "Very funny. Besides, I made it three days without sleep on Myrkr. A few more hours now won't kill me."

"Three days on stimpills and you almost became a vornskr's meal."

"Details." She waved them away. "And we couldn't use the Force to sustain our energy, remember? "

"Not likely to forget. But tell me again, which one of us doesn't believe in unnecessary use of the Force?"

She sighed. "I'm trying to get as much done as possible before we leave and can't be commed in hyperspace. And these are all marked urgent." She lifted the bag, its sides bulging. "There are at least thirty different transmissions that seem…off…and should be properly sliced and analyzed. And—"

"And they will keep one more day." Couldn't she feel the exhaustion coming off her in waves? He certainly did.

She crossed her arms and regarded him coolly. "So when reports come in from the academy, and you tie yourself up in knots trying to solve every single problem, I can throw this conversation back at you? You're not the only with responsibilities, Luke." She picked up her datapad and began to scroll.

He sat back and regarded her. "I know that. All I'm saying is that you can face them more effectively after some rest." But it wasn't only work that concerned her. He felt a hesitation, or trepidation, pressing at the edges of her mind. His mouth twisted. "It's just sleep, Mara," he said gently. "Alone. I'll stay here and make sure the ship is prepped and supplied for the journey to Coruscant."

She looked up, datapad forgotten. Her drowsy gaze sharpened, sprang to blazing life. "Wait. You think this is because I don't want to share a bed with you?" Her voice rose, shaking slightly. "You're such an idiot, Skywalker."

She opened up her senses and a wave of hot desire and deep longing washed over him, stunning him with its visceral immediacy. It was the equal of his yearning for her, tamped down but boiling underneath carefully constructed layers of reserve, just as strong and as fierce. It took every ounce of control he had and then some to stay in his chair, mindful of the relay station staff just visible through the transparisteel window, when every cell of his body wanted to grab her, pull her to him, make her  _his_.

"You're an idiot," she repeated, her eyes closed, her chest rapidly rising and falling. Her struggle to regain control was as difficult as his. "This is not about  _sleep_ ," she said, her voice low and full of promise to his ears, "but rather where to sleep. Here," and she indicated the greater relay station outside the door of their room, "is not where I want to find accommodations. Ki'stan is a decent station chief, but when it comes to gossip, he has all the discretion of a vro-cat.

"Besides," she paused, and now she freely shared the hesitation and trepidation washing over her thoughts, "I'd rather we kept this new, um, relationship to ourselves. For now. Until we have to tell Karrde and your family." She looked over at him. "If that's okay."

Luke finally trusted himself enough to get up from his chair. He walked over to where Mara sat, removed the datapad she still held from her grasp, and pulled her up to stand with him. Only the knowledge that anyone could walk past the window at any time kept him from wrapping her in his arms. "It is unfamiliar territory, isn't it?" he said.

She nodded, her shoulders relaxing. "Yes. But at this same time it's...comfortable. I don't know how else to describe it."

"Very comfortable." He ran his thumbs over the back of the hands he held, careful to keep the connection out of sight of the window. "But unusual. This isn't the typical courtship."

She laughed. "That's the understatement of the century. No one will believe us."

"Oh, I don't know. Some will say they've known it all along," he said, thinking of Han's pointed comments about Mara over the years.

"It's like…coming home," she said, moving nearer to him. "Only—"

"—the furniture is not where you left it—"

"—and you stumble around, trying to orient yourself—

"—yet you know you wouldn't want to be anywhere else. You're exactly where you are meant to be," he finished.

She smiled. Why had he never noticed before what a beautiful smile she had? It lit her up from within, made those amazing eyes shine and the room seem brighter. "So I'd like it if we could explore the new home by ourselves for a while," she said. "With no New Republic, no Jedi, no Qom Qae, no Chiss firing charrics—"

"No smugglers, no information brokers, no pirates, no clones," he concluded.

"Precisely. Because as you well know, the moment we tell anyone the entire galaxy will want to weigh in. You are the only surviving Jedi Master after all," she said, with a rueful twist to her mouth.

Right. He had his own responsibilities and commitments. Responsibilities and commitments that would kick into hyperdrive as soon as he as was able to freely communicate with the academy and Coruscant.

"It's going to take us eight days to get to the Core Worlds," Mara said, squeezing his hands. "Maybe nine. Artoo still hasn't gotten an accurate power reading off the ship's engines. And we can leave tonight."

"Eight days?"

"Maybe nine."

They didn't need the bond to feel the heat of anticipation and the promise of long-thwarted emotions fulfilled.

He mock-sighed. "That's a pretty long voyage. It's bound to be boring in such a small ship."

She stepped even closer to him. "Oh, I have ideas about how to alleviate that," she breathed in his ear, and then quickly reached around him and snatched up her datapad and bag. "For example, I have plenty of work to keep me occupied. You can, I don't know, practice meditation." She threw him a slightly evil smirk.

"Or we can work on your Jedi training." He returned her smirk with an equally evil grin.

"Or we can think of something else," she said quickly, and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek after stretching out with her senses to make sure no one was observing them. "I need to arrange for supplies, plus Ki'stan and I are going to have a nice little chat."

"I hope you are kinder to him than Parck and Fel were to you," Luke murmured.

"Don't worry, Karrde frowns on his employees threatening to shoot each other. Besides, the consensus seems to be that I am a Jedi now. Might as well start acting like one." She stepped to the door and opened it. "Ready to leave in two hours?"

"Artoo and I will be waiting for you on board."

She smiled, setting the whole room alight, and left.


	5. Chapter 5

Ninety or so minutes later, Luke opened the door of the secure room and stepped into the main hall of the relay station. Artoo tootled sadly as he rolled behind Luke. "Yes, I know you would have liked to have caught up with the systems at the academy. I would have liked to catch up with the people at the academy, myself." But unfortunately, his efforts to get a message through to Yavin 4 had remained futile. Seeing Mara with her work reminded him of his, and he had to admit he was slightly envious she was able to check in with her colleagues when he wasn't.

The feeling went away when Ki'stan caught up with him. "Master Skywalker!" he puffed, his hands full of datacards. "These just came in for Captain Jade. Can you make sure she gets them? She left before I could give her the latest batch."

On second thought, perhaps a few more days without messages from the academy – or Coruscant, for the matter – might be fine. As it was, it looked like Mara would be buried in work enough for the two of them.

Luke took the datacards, hiding his smile upon hearing Ki'stan's formal address. So much for the "Skywalker" and "Jade" used to greet them when they arrived at the station. He also noticed that Ki'stan had exchanged his informal and slightly stained tunic for a crisp new one, neatly belted. Apparently Mara had indeed had her "talk" with the station chef.

And the station chief's appearance wasn't the only noticeable change. Desks that had been haphazardly placed were now arranged in symmetrical order. The empty bottles of alcohol were no longer in evidence, and the staff were sitting quietly at their stations, intent on their comm screens.

From their very first meeting, Luke knew that Mara was highly competent. He'd seen her demonstrate just how exceedingly capable she could be over a dozen times. But those tended to be life or death situations, usually with the fate of the galaxy hanging in the balance. Extraordinary moments, which called for extraordinary effort. Once the crisis was over, they parted and returned to their normal lives. Well, as normal as life got for them, of course.

So if someone had asked him, he would have said that Mara must be good at her job. Karrde was too smart, too savvy, and had too close an eye on the bottom line to make her his second-in-command otherwise.

But it was a different matter to actually see for himself just how accomplished and proficient she was as a matter of course.

"I, ah, see you've noticed a few changes in the layout," Ki'stan said. "I do hope you will let Captain Jade know I decided to take her suggestions on board?

"Where is she?"

"She's at your ship, delivering supplies. She wouldn't let anyone else accompany her past the hangar doors."

Luke nodded. "I should join her. Thank you for setting up the secure room. And for the hospitality."

Ki'stan trailed after him and Artoo as they made for the exit. "I do hope Captain Jade trusts us? It's not just the deliveries. She also refused to have the technicians on duty check over your ship." The station chief's round, open faced was creased with concern.

"It's not personal," Luke said. "We're protective of the ship, that's all."

"If you say so." Ki'stan didn't look too convinced. "She's one of the best in Karrde's organization. I remember the days before Karrde hired her, and I'm glad they're gone. I would hate to be transferred and have to report to Aves or someone else." He shuddered.

"I wouldn't worry too much about it. I'm sure Captain Jade is very grateful for your help. I know I am." Luke shook Ki'stan's hand in farewell. The outer doors opened, and Luke and Artoo began to weave their way toward to the spaceport.

The streets were quieter, most of the celebrants having apparently gone home, but there were still plenty of obstacles in the form of discarded rubbish and the odd dozen or so Comraians who decided to sleep off their revelry right then and there on the main thoroughfare. Luke had no problem stepping around them, but he occasionally had to assist Artoo. The slow progress gave him time to think about his last exchange with Ki'stan. Luke told the station chief not to worry about a transfer, and he meant it. He didn't get the sense from Mara that Ki'stan was in any danger of losing his job.

On the other hand, Ki'stan wanted to continue reporting to Mara. And that was a different matter. Because if Luke got his way, Mara would be out of Karrde's organization and ensconced with him at the academy yesterday.

For eight years, Luke had tried numerous and varied tactics to persuade Mara to stay on Yavin 4 and complete her training. He saw so clearly that she belonged in the ranks of the Jedi. She'd proven her bravery time and time again. She possessed a cool pragmatism, even under fire, that made her a natural leader. She was intelligent and intuitive with a spirit that refused to be cowed.

And of course, she was strong in the Force.

So she had to be a Jedi. He knew it. Knew it as true as he knew the beat of his own heart.

But now, with Ki'stan's words ringing in his ears…

For the first time he started to doubt his convictions.

* * *

Mara started her pre-flight walk-around of the Chiss-Imperial ship, checking for any hull damage or other issues that might cause problems during the flight. The ship's sensors should give her any information she might need, but she still liked to do a visual examination. She was unfamiliar with the ship's systems, and didn't know how reliable they were. She knew she could rely on her eyes.

Her powers of observation, after all, were just one of several tools she trusted implicitly to keep her alive.

She trusted her BlasTech. And her much smaller hold-out blaster, usually holstered under her sleeve. Her vibroblade.

She trusted her sarcasm and her caustic temper, tools sharply honed to catch opponents off guard and goad them into mistakes.

She trusted her body, the result of long hours spent with dance tutors, perfecting her grace and balance. And even longer hours spent in hand-to-hand combat training, tuning the grace and balance to a lethal level.

She trusted her lightsaber. It was one of the tools she most valued. She suspected that was why Luke gave it to her in the first place.

Mara glanced down at the weapon, its hilt firmly attached to her belt. She knew that some had looked upon the gift with raised eyebrows, reading implications and assumptions about their relationship into his gesture. Why else would the galaxy's last remaining Jedi give his would-be assassin the only tangible reminder he had of his father, if not as some sort of future promise?

But Luke couldn't and Leia wouldn't use a lightsaber that had cut a bloody swath during Anakin Skywalker's fall to Darth Vader. Nor would either of them want to see it on display in some Galactic Museum of Remembrance. However, Luke knew that to Mara, it would be just a tool. A very useful and much appreciated tool. And never a symbol of family fate or destiny preordained.

He gave it to her because he knew she trusted the Force above all the other tools in her personal survival kit, and would use the lightsaber accordingly.

He also trusted the Force. Even more that she did. But it wasn't a tool to him. It just… _was_. The Force was an integral part of him, and he could no more divorce his connection to it than he could sever his relationship with his sister.

But where Mara put her trust in tools, Luke put his trust in others. He believed that individuals were inherently good. He looked for the light in everyone, and rarely gave up on them. She was the beneficiary of his faith, she thought as she completed her inspection of the ship's undercarriage. Not many people would extend an unarmed hand to someone sworn to end their life. But Luke had extended his hand to her, repeatedly.

Still, she was glad she had a reliable arsenal at her disposal to back him up from now on. For there would be times when his trust would be inevitably betrayed.

She sighed as she stood up, stretching tight muscles that still needed to recover from the events on Nirauan. On the other hand, refusing to place her trust in others had cost her much. More than she had ever realized until recently. She had a feeling that while her tools would be of valuable use in this relationship – she was proud of herself for only hesitating a second - she would gain far more just by being exposed to Luke's open nature on a daily basis.

The thought was daunting, but even more exhilarating. With a soft smile on her face, she climbed up the exterior ladder to check the upper hull.

She felt Luke's approach, and unlocked the hangar bay access door with a Force nudge. "Hi," she called out. "We're just about ready to leave. Want to start the pre-flight systems check?"

"Of course," came his reply from somewhere below her. Mara heard the door to the ship open, and a thump that could only be Luke depositing Artoo carefully inside. His footsteps echoed as he walked around the ship until he stood underneath her position on top of the hull. "Are you finished up there?"

"Almost." Mara completed her check and moved to the side to peer down at him. Despite the dim light of the hangar she could see him clearly, as if he was lit from within. Maybe that was just the Force in him, she thought, stronger than ever. Or maybe it was because she now perceived him though their bond as well as with her eyes.

Or maybe, just maybe, this was how love worked. Seeing with the heart brought the clearest vision of all.

It was a pretty damn attractive sight.

Luke stared up at her, a generous grin curving his lips. He raised a self-satisfied eyebrow, and she returned it with a narrowed gaze. "Get out of my head, Skywalker."

But she accepted his offered hand, assisting her off the ladder and onto the hangar floor.

When both of her feet were firmly on the floor, he pulled her into a tight embrace, his lips finding hers. Mara sank into his kiss, the warmth of his mouth, the pressure of his hands, returning his heat with a fire of her own.

They broke apart, foreheads leaning against each other as breathing returned to something approximating normal.

"If this is your way of running a systems check, I can't say I disapprove," Mara said.

"I've been wanting to do that for hours."

"Eight days. Maybe nine. Just us."

"Which means the sooner we leave, the better. I'll check on Artoo and see how he's doing with the pre-flight sequence." With a reluctance that matched her own, Luke removed his hands from her waist and turned toward the ladder that led inside the ship. She missed the warm touch, but the bright spot that she was beginning to call the "Luke place" in her mind continued to burn.

"I'll comm ground control and ask for departure. And I should also comm Ki'stan and let him know we're leaving."

Luke hesitated in the doorway. "Speaking of, he gave me more datacards for you."

"Of course he did." Mara narrowed her gaze. She was still learning their bond, but something in him seemed to…dim…when she mentioned Ki'stan. "Is everything okay?"

"What could be wrong?" He threw her a grin, and disappeared into the ship.

Her gaze followed him. No, she wasn't imagining it. She sensed a definite hesitation or concern. And it had to do with her work.

Oh well. She had eight days – or nine – to figure it out. And she better. Before they arrived on Coruscant and announced the shift in their relationship.

And all Nine Corellian Hells would break loose.


	6. Chapter 6

A push of the hyperdrive lever from Luke and the stars turned into lines and then faded into dappled hyperspace.

"We'll revert to normal space in 48 hours for any necessary course correction and to pick up new messages," Mara said. "You have everything under control until then, Artoo?"

When the droid whistled his affirmation, she unfastened her crash webbing and stood up, stretching her arms high above her head. She felt Luke's gaze linger, admiring the way the fabric of her jumpsuit slid across her chest and molded itself to her figure. She might have held the pose just a second longer than necessary, just because she could.

For so long, she had guarded herself in his presence, keeping their interaction as limited, professional and neutral as possible. Well, fine, neutral verging on what some – okay, most - might call hostile. She wouldn't let herself, couldn't let herself acknowledge him as an attractive human male, or entertain the thought that he might find her equally desirable. The potential for all sorts of disasters had been too high. But now…

She smiled, and stretched again. This time Luke didn't even try to hide his response, the atmosphere in the cramped flight deck turning heavy with anticipation and growing heat. She half-smirked at him, receiving an unabashed grin in return. He undid his crash webbing and she pulled him out of his chair.

"So. You said something earlier about finding sleeping accommodations?" She led the way, her hand warm in his, toward the pilot couches in the rear.

"I'm not complaining. But just to warn you, that bunk wasn't the most comfortable-" He stopped, stunned by the sight in front of him.

While Luke had been in the relay station's 'fresher, Mara called in a few favors from a Comarian ship's outfitter who owed Karrde most of his business. He gave her the materials she requested and lent her a retrofitting droid she was allowed to mindwipe after its work was finished.

The result was a transformation from a utilitarian pilot rest area to a yacht captain's quarters. Gone were the narrow military-style benches and hard, barely cushioned surfaces. Instead, a double divan occupied most of the space, covered with bright silken bedclothes and overstuffed pillows.

"I know you X-Wing flyboys think bunking in those cramped cockpits of yours is the height of luxury travel," she said, enjoying Luke's reaction, "but I'm used to the stateroom on the  _Jade's Fire_. And the voyage is eight days, after all."

"Hopefully nine," he said, his astonished gaze still taking in the scene.

"So you'll do your best to cope?" She threw him a slightly evil smirk.

"I think," he said, and he sat down on the bed, took off his boots, and fell backwards onto the pillows, "that this will be adequate. For me. Enjoy the pilot's chair, Jade."

A quick movement of Mara's hand and the pillow supporting his head was Force-twitched away. He rubbed his head where it had hit the bulkhead and then used the Force to send the pillow flying back toward her. She easily caught and held it suspended in mid-air, laughing.

"Trying to avoid unnecessary use, I see." He propped himself up on one elbow and gave her a wide grin.

She opened her eyes wide in mock innocence, and let the pillow settle gently back to its original position. "But you said I needed to work on my training."

"Point." He smoothed his hand over the bedclothes. "This is a massive improvement over what was here earlier. Thanks for arranging it."

She walked over and, kicking off her own boots, lay down next to him. "It's not the  _Jade's Fire_ , but it will do." A quick flash of her beloved ship, exploding into a massive fireball as it crashed into the hangar docking bay on Nirauan, caught her off guard and she squeezed her eyes tightly shut. She opened them to find Luke's clear blue gaze focused on her, steady and strong. She smiled at him, answering his unspoken question. "Yes, the loss still hurts. But what I gained in return is – what was that word you used? – adequate."

He laughed and bent down to kiss her.

Then the kiss deepened, the embers forcibly banked for the last few days allowed to finally take hold and blaze freely, and all amusement, all thought fled.

* * *

No shields, no barriers.

Just him. And her. Lay bare, for the other to see, touch, caress.

Skin against skin. Mind against mind. Two into one.

The sweep of her fingers across the hard planes of his stomach, the jump in his pulse, the answering beat in her veins.

The tug of his mouth on her breast, the rush of blood to her cheeks, the responding shudder arcing its way to his core.

The sweet pressure, the rising tension. The delicious give and take wordlessly negotiated until they could bear it no more and let it carry them off.

Melded.

Bonded.

Together.

* * *

Later, much later, after their breath returned and their heart rates slowed just enough for an errant brush of Mara's lips against Luke's chest to set off another round of explosions even more shattering than the last – followed by some much needed sleep - Luke lay on the divan and listened to the ship's quiet humming. The soothing background noise matched the contentment he could feel singing through both of them.

"And this one?" Mara asked. She sat by his left knee, her slender fingers tracing a jagged scar.

"That's from long before I joined the Rebellion. I was…nine?...I think. I snuck off to watch the older kids race their landspeeders. I lost track of time and the suns went down before I could make it back to the homestead. I knew I was in trouble and started running. A rock got in my way and I fell onto an even larger one."

She kissed the old injury. The soft touch of her lips against his skin was still astonishing and new. But he suspected that it would always send the same thrill racing through his blood. "Then I've decided. This is my favorite," she murmured.

He pulled her down beside him. She fell with a short exclamation of surprise, her right arm landing on his chest. He picked it up and traced the perfect crescent moon, small and silvery, etched into the inner crook of her elbow. She shivered and gasped, her gaze sparkling brilliant green.

"Same reaction, every time," he said with a grin. "This is definitely my favorite of your scars."

"I only wish I remembered how I got it. No doubt on some mission force-fed me by Palpatine." She snorted. "Force fed. Never made that connection before. I blame being in your head."

"Jacen makes the bad puns, not me."

"Remind me not to thank him for his influence on his uncle." She yawned and moved closer to him, snuggling into his side as if she had always fit there.

He could feel sleep calling to him as well, but he shrugged it off. There would be time for slumber later, after they returned to Coruscant and rejoined the rest of the galaxy. He had a feeling – and it had nothing to do with the Force – that moments when it would just be the two of them, without any interference from the outside world, would be few and far between. Best to make the most of the precious time they had left.

"Have you stopped to wonder," he began, "if—"

Her eyes flew open, alert and awake. "If the…whatever happened to us in the cloning chamber…had happened on Wayland?" She pulled away from his side and propped herself up on one elbow to look down at him, eyebrows raised high. "Easy. We would have killed each other."

He turned to face her, mirroring her position. "Killed each other? Isn't that rather pessimistic?"

She rolled her eyes. "Think about it, Luke. I'd had a voice in my head since I could form words. I finally get rid of it, only to find your voice in its place? Not a healthy recipe. For either of us."

"But what we have – it's not the same thing. Is it?" He felt cold, and it had nothing to do with the temperature of the ship or the absence of her warm skin next to his.

She snorted. "It might have slipped your notice, but you and Palpatine are two very different people, you know."

"Funny, Jade. You know what I mean."

The amusement left her gaze and she nodded. With her free hand she picked up and held his, squeezed it tight. "No, it's not the same. Not at all. But at Wayland? It wouldn't have mattered."

"You think so?" Luke knew that Mara's mental connection with Palpatine must have run deep for her to be able to his voice from anywhere in the galaxy. But then Luke had been able to hear Obi-Wan even after Obi-Wan's physical death, so Luke also had experience communicating across seemingly insurmountable barriers. He knew the melding that occurred in the cloning chamber, the mental and emotional bond between Mara and him that blossomed and took hold, was intimately and fundamentally different.

"I know so. Don't get me wrong. Even then I knew you and I had a connection, on some level. At the very least, we worked well together, and that's when I was under a compunction to kill you. With the compunction lifted—" she shrugged—"of course the potential for something…greater…existed. So in the back of my mind, I knew this," and she leaned over to kiss him, sweet and salty and fiery hot, "could happen."

He kissed her back. He couldn't help it. Kissing Mara Jade was something of which he would never, could never tire. Still, he wanted to hear the story of their lives up to this point from her perspective. "But," he whispered against her lips.

She lifted her head and smiled, her lips slightly swollen and her gaze half-lidded and warm with promise, and he wished he had a holocamera so he could keep the moment preserved for all eternity.

"But." She nestled against him as he leaned back against the pillows, her head resting on his chest. "I had just learned that everything I had built my life around was a lie. A lie specifically calculated to influence and control. " She huffed, a quick, derisive puff of air. "I thought I was so special. The Emperor's Hand. I mean, the title alone! It's so…pretentious. When he first named me that, I thought it meant I was as essential to him as his own limbs."

"You were a child, without any other family or guardians. Of course it appealed to you." His fingers traced abstract patterns on the silk that was her skin, invisible swoops and swirls down her spine and across the sharp-boned wings of her shoulders.

He felt her shake her head, her hair sliding against his skin, red-gold strands trailing sparks in their wake. "No. I was proud. Proud and arrogant and I looked down my nose at everyone else because I had that title, even if only a few select others at court knew it. I would put on my dancer's costume and I would simper at the Moffs and their consorts and deep down I would think, 'I am so much better than you.'" She sighed, her gaze dimming under the shade of memory.

"And it wasn't a false boast. I  _was_  good at what I did. He made me good. He gave me the best instructors and the best weapons and the most advanced equipment possible. I sat at my lessons from the first bell in the morning until the evening meal at night, and I learned and I trained and I excelled. I excelled, Luke, at every terrible task he taught me because I wanted to please him. I was his Hand and I was  _special_." She spit out the last word, her shoulders tense under his fingertips. He tried to soothe the knotted muscles as best he could.

"And when I figured out that it was all a ruse, that I had lied and manipulated and  _killed_ for him under false pretenses, that I was just one of many he had twisted to serve his whims and he was controlling me still, years after his death – " She exhaled, a long, shuddering breath, and raised her head, her green eyes shining bright in the ship's low light. "I didn't know who I was. What I was."

He held her gaze with his. A lock of hair fell into her eyes and he pushed it back, not wanting to break contact. Across their bond flew all sorts of impressions and emotions, feelings and sentiments: guilt, forgiveness, understanding, acceptance.

"So if this bond had happened then…," her voice trailed off. "Yes. I probably would have killed you, even with the command gone, just to finally have my head to myself." She smiled at him, half rueful. "Or you would have killed me."

"Never." This he knew to be utterly true.

"Oh, not with a weapon. Not intentionally. Perhaps not even physically. But the end result would have been the same."

Now it was his turn to roll away and sit up, the better to see her expression as well as to minimize the distraction that was a nude Mara tangling her legs with his. "What do you mean?"

She sat up to face him. "I wasn't strong enough. I wasn't whole," she said. The calm certainty underlining her words radiated across their bond. "At least, not in the ways that mattered. Not that I would've admitted it to you or anyone else."

His mouth twisted. "I know now you couldn't stay in a place where a dark side presence tried to dominate others. I wish I had the insight then."

"You had a lot on your shoulders at the time. Most would have crumbled under that weight immediately." Her hand stroked back hair grown long during their time on Nirauan from his forehead. She whispered a kiss along the lines starting to make their home there.

He caught her hand and brought it to his lips, pressing them against her open palm. "It put me in a coma, as I recall." Mistakes upon mistakes, that first class of students…

She shrugged. "Acknowledge, and move on. Besides, you aren't the only one whose judgment is less than perfect in hindsight. When you were injured and fell into that coma…" For the first time her gaze faltered, and she looked away.

He stroked the hand he held. This was her time to speak. His would come.

"I felt it. I was negotiating with a regional crime boss on Rylos and nearly had the deal closed when I doubled over. That's the reason why I returned to Yavin. I did have information about Mirax for Corran, but I could have sent it to him via secure transmission. I didn't need to deliver it in person. But I had to be there," she ended in a rush.

His fingers stilled. He had no idea she sensed Exar Kun's attack on him. She left Yavin before he fully woke up from the ordeal. He hadn't even known she'd been at the academy until Corran told him, days later.

"That's when I knew…," she paused, and he could feel a deep mental barrier, one of the last remaining between them, fall and crumble as she no longer required its services, "when I knew just how strong, how deep the connection between us could be. So I left, once Cilghal said you would recover. If I had stayed, if I trained to be a Jedi like you wanted, I thought…." She stopped. "You know that was then, not now, right?"

He nodded, pulling to him until they were face to face and he could find her mouth with his. He kissed her, hands cupping the beautiful planes of her face, letting her feel his reassurance and unconditional support.

When their lips parted, she curled herself around him, her head tucked under his chin. "So if you had stayed?" he prompted, knowing the gist of her answer through their bond but also knowing it was important for both of them to say and hear the words.

"If I had stayed, I thought I would be tempted to fall into my old, comfortable ways. To do everything, anything to prove myself the perfect Jedi, courting your favor as the Master of the Order just as I used to court Palpatine's." Her breath was warm against his neck.

He shifted his arm to hold her closer. "Despite your earlier assurances, I still don't feel especially flattered when you compare the two of us."

"You know what I mean." She nipped the sensitive skin below his earlobe in mild rebuke, a sharp but pleasurable sting. "That was what I was shaped to do. Fulfill others' wishes. Obey their commands. And I would have done that with you if I had stayed. It wouldn't have been fair to me. Or to you, putting you in that position."

He could see her point. But he still thought she was being too hard on herself. On them. "You make it sound like you were a mindless drone. But I know you weren't."

"Not mindless, no. Palpatine allowed me to make judgment calls. But any freedom I had was illusionary. I learned that when I woke up in a detention cell being poked at by Isard." Pain flashed dark in her gaze, causing an answering dull ache in his heart.

"I understand why you couldn't stay at Yavin. Yet you went back to working under Karrde." That had always rankled him, if he were being honest. Mara would refuse each and every one of his attempts to train her as a Jedi, claiming that she wanted her independence and couldn't be committed to the Order – and yet she gave Karrde her undivided loyalty.

"Karrde isn't Force sensitive," she said quietly.

Luke suddenly understood, and mentally kicked himself for being so obtuse. "You didn't have to wonder if your thoughts were your own."

"Yes. I followed Karrde's orders, sure. But because I chose to do so, not because he used the Force."

"And you couldn't have that assurance on Yavin." He understood, and yet the realization landed a punch to his gut, low and deep.

Her lips pursed into a rueful knot. "It's not that I thought you wanted to command me, or anyone for that matter. But the potential was still there, Luke. You have to admit that. You do have that power, even if you would never exercise it. And after Byss…and then Exar Kun…"

He nodded, a short, curt bob of his head. "I know." If he had worked harder at understanding the cause of Mara's reticence, tried harder to get beneath her barriers… But it might have driven a permanent wedge between them. She needed to make her own peace on her own time, not be forced into it by him.

Acknowledge his part in the past divide between them and move on, that was the best he could do.

"It was easier to stay away, to tell myself my only responsibility was to ensure my lungs stayed supplied with air." She tugged his face down to hers, kissed him thoroughly. His senses were still thrumming when she released him. "But it turned out I had a much greater responsibility."

"To the Jedi?" he murmured against her lips.

"The Jedi. The galaxy. You." She nipped at his lower lip, a gentle bite. "Just think of how much trouble you would have avoided if I had stuck around."

"Well, you're sticking around now." His hands found a spot even more sensitive than the scar on her elbow. She gasped, her open mouth hot against his.

"I—Yes." She shuddered as he repeated the caress, her hands tightly gripping his shoulders.

Luke stopped. If he was not mistaken, she threw up a mental shield when he mentioned sticking around. Why did she…

But then Mara wrapped her arms and legs and senses around him, and everything else faded away.


	7. Chapter 7

The ship's alarm chimed, an off note arrangement that managed to be both alien and highly annoying. Luke stirred, his left hand automatically reaching to find Mara. When he encountered nothing but rumbled bedcovers, he opened his eyes.

Mara stood next to the divan, dressed in a fresh jumpsuit with a neatly packaged bundle in her hands. Through vision still bleary with sleep, he noted that she must have been up for some time. Her red-gold hair was pulled back into a braid, and her skin wore the slightly abraded glow that came from using the basic sonic shower found on ships. She leaned down to kiss him, a soft glint in her gaze. "We're coming out of hyperspace in an hour to make course corrections and pick up messages," she said after breaking contact with his lips. "You might want to get dressed if you plan on using the ship's HoloNet to talk to anyone."

She tossed the bundle at him and he easily caught it. A new jumpsuit, plus all other necessities required to look presentable. "Thorough," he noted with approval, searching through the enclosed grooming kit.

"Not that I didn't like the beard in the caves," she said, "but I thought you'd appreciate showing up on Coruscant without one."

"Thanks," he said, and then grinned up at her. "Although I'm sure you'll appreciate it more."

She gave him a very slow smile. "Oh, I don't know." She ran the back of her hand along his jawline and the stubble formed there. "This has its...advantages."

He caught her hand and drew her fingers to his lips, kissing the tips one by one. "An hour? Are you sure you didn't get dressed too soon?"

An ember flared, deep and low, in the Force bond they shared, and it was mirrored in those bottomless green eyes of hers. Still, she gently pulled her hand from his grip. "Sadly, yes." She held up the bulging carrier bag of datacards he knew all too well. "I have to report in. We stole two days, but I can't steal any more."

He quirked an eyebrow at her, throwing back the covers. He stood up and stretched. Mara bit her lip and turned away. "You're deliberately baiting," she called over her shoulder. "I'll remember this the next time you're running late for a conference with the Ruling Council or Tionne needs you to go over the accounts."

"You can distract me from finance meetings all you like. I might put that in the vows."

She laughed and shook her head, but there was something…guarded…in her gaze. And in her Force sense. "I'll see you on the flight deck. I might even have food waiting." She brushed her lips over the area her hand traced earlier, and left.

Luke followed her with his gaze. The barrier he had noticed earlier was back, shielding a small but tightly locked corner of her thoughts.

Mara was a deeply private person. He knew that. He was also fully certain she reveled in their new intimacy as much as he did.

But the switch from wary allies to lovers had been rather abrupt, for all that it had been building for years. They were bound to encounter rough patches. The biggest surprise was that they hadn't hit a rockslide so far.

Still, he was already accustomed to having access to all of her. He only now realized just how much this connection - mental, physical, emotional – filled in holes he didn't know existed. Aunt Beru taught him not to be greedy, but he had a hard time resisting when it came to his new wife-to-be.

He picked up the bundle and headed for the 'ship's tiny fresher. Mara valued her independence and took fierce pride in being self-reliant. She solved her own problems, preferring not to rely on the help of others. He loved all of her. And that included whatever parts she wanted to keep to herself.

As he stood under the sonic, he wondered if she put up a barrier because he was the problem she was trying to unravel.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, the smell of tomo-spiced ribenes drew him to the flight deck. He patted Artoo on the top of his dome as he passed by the droid alcove, receiving a cheerful whistle of greeting.

Two prepared trays, warm from being reheated in the cooker, sat on the small pullout table between the pilot and co-pilot chairs. Two steaming mugs accompanied the trays. One held caf for Mara, the other had hot chocolate for him.

"Looks good," he said. He hadn't realized how famished he was. They had eaten, of course, since boarding the ship, but only bites here and there. They never did manage to complete a full meal. Other activities took far more precedence. "How did you know this is one of my favorite foods?" He reached for a ribene and bit into it.

"Your mind was screaming it during the melding in the clone chamber," she replied from the pilot's seat with a grin. She looked up from her datapad and started counting on her fingers. "If I recall correctly, the order of your thoughts was: 'don't die, don't let Mara die, don't let Artoo die, and I'm starving for ribenes.'"

"Ration bars were getting old by then," he agreed. He picked up another ribene. "Delicious."

"Just so you know, this is the extent of my culinary skills," she warned. "I can reheat anything that says 'ship's rations' on the label. Otherwise, you're on your own."

He gave her a quick smile, and finished off the ribene before reaching for another. "I'm not too worried."

She flashed him a smile of her own, and went back to her datapad. Her tray remained untouched.

"You're not eating?" he asked.

"I will. Just need to finish this." She tapped on the screen, and then shook her head and looked up. "The treaty is ages old by information brokering standards, but the business implications remain the same. Not good."

"How so?' He frowned. To him, there could be no drawbacks to an accord that ended a destructive civil war that cost countless lives.

"It reduces the number of customers, for one. The New Republic embargoes resources and goods from Imperial systems and vice versa. That makes it very lucrative to trade outside official government channels. But with the treaty, the sanctions are sure to be lifted."

He nodded. "So no premium fees for shipping goods once they can be obtained legally."

"Correct." She took a ribene from her tray and bit into it, then put it down and wiped her fingers. "And increased competition from legitimate traders for those same goods, once the punishment for carrying illegal cargo is removed. Of course, most of our operations are above board now."

"Most?" He raised an eyebrow. A year or so ago, Karrde set up Mara with a small trading company. But Luke knew it had recently been shut down. As far as he was aware, that had been the only lawful operation under Karrde's supervision.

She threw him a wry smile. "According to the bills of lading we carry, we're legal. Our suppliers and our customers, on the other hand...let's just say it's complicated."

"You don't need to explain. I saw some of it with Han, when we first met."

She snorted. "Running spice for the Hutts is a whole 'nother level of criminal. And stupid."

"I don't think Han would disagree with you."

"The logic is too sound for even him to argue," Mara agreed, breaking contact with Luke's gaze to fiddle with a flight instrument dial that needed no adjustment as far as he could tell. He frowned, but then she caught his gaze and shrugged. "Karrde saw the writing on the wall some time ago. Even without the peace treaty, the New Republic would inevitably grow stronger while the Imperial Remnant became weaker. We didn't want to be caught flat-footed."

"Or red-handed?" he couldn't resist adding.

"Funny." But she did smile. "Actually, that's it precisely. With most of the galaxy under one government, which means streamlined laws and regulations, one doesn't need to be Force sensitive to see the crackdown on smuggling coming."

"So that's why you had your own trading company." Another piece fell into place.

She nodded. "To test our ability to maneuver if we traded legitimately, yes. And to see how much money is in it. We could continue smuggling, of course. But if my numbers are correct"-she tapped the datapad-"soon the only real profit will come from running weapons and drugs. Karrde is far from averse to profit, but that type of cargo lacks the…finesse…he likes."

"Yes," Luke murmured. "I was at Jabba's Palace, remember. I saw the lack of finesse first hand. "

"Right," she said, giving him a rueful smile. "So, what will the treaty mean for the Jedi?"

Mara switched subjects smoothly, hoping Luke didn't catch the twinge of discomfort when Solo's name came up. She took another ribene and focused her gaze on the tray in front of her.

She wanted to marry Luke. It knocked the breath out of her, sometimes, just how badly she wanted it. Once the universe – or the Force – or Luke himself – opened her mind to the potential, it was all she saw. All she craved. A life, with him.

But it wasn't just him, was it? He came with a family. A sister. A brother-in-law. Two nephews and a niece. Even Artoo, who most of the time acted more like Luke's shorter, wiser sidekick than his droid. It was almost a circuits and metal version of Solo's relationship with his Wookiee co-pilot.

She had friends, of course. Karrde. And Aves, and Chin, and Faughn. Odonnl and Dankin. They willingly spent time together, commandeering a dark corner in a cantina or three after successfully finishing a run or waiting for their suppliers to show up. Tall tales were spun, woes were commiserated, and backs were closely watched.

But when the bill came and credits were due, they were work colleagues. Some of whom Mara commanded, while others gave her directives. Smuggling and information dealing might be outside the laws of most of the planets they dealt with, but it had its hierarchies, as rigid as any military's or government's. One was always aware of where one was seated at the table, and calibrated the social interaction accordingly.

Plus, there were plenty of alternatives if one didn't like one's job or one's workmates. Transfer to another ship and crew. Quit, and join another organization. Or find a different occupation altogether. Never see those colleagues again.

But family…that was a different magnitude of responsibility and commitment.

Her bond with Luke was extraordinary and unexpected and painfully new – but it was also comfortable. Natural. Easy. There was no other way to explain it, other than it just  _was._ And now it was as much a part of her as the breath in her lungs or the blood in her veins.

She didn't have a bond with his family.

And that family meant everything to him. She didn't need the melding in the cloning chamber to know that. They were his anchors, Han and Leia and the children. They kept him human, when he would disappear into Master Jedi mode and retire from the material world. They kept him sane, when the weight of the galaxy threatened to drag him under. They kept him in the light, when the dark sought to engulf and abuse him.

They were his greatest joy. His best gift.

She had no idea how to be a part of it.

Assuming, that was, his family would welcome her attempts to try.

"One step at a time," Luke said.

Her head came up, her gaze flying to meet his.

"The peace treaty?" he reminded her with a slight smile. "You asked what it means. We'll have to take it one step at a time." He picked up his mug of hot chocolate and took a sip.

"Right," she murmured. "Of course."

"At a minimum, the Jedi will probably be drawn into old disputes and asked to intercede, now that systems now longer have to band together to fight the Imperial Remnant and can go back to fighting each other." He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it slightly tousled. She approved of the look. "Perhaps we can establish relationships with Bastion, offer our services to them as well. I never did like being seen as Coruscant's instrument. Although," he continued, watching her closely, "I suppose that impression couldn't be helped, not as long as Leia remained Chief of State."

"No," she said, her gaze focused on the mottled skies outside the canopy. Blast. She couldn't get away from this topic. She cleared her throat. "But Leia's on a leave of absence, right? So it might be a good time to demonstrate the Jedi are independent by reaching out to Bastion. But don't be surprised if they refuse. Depends on which Moffs are left in power and how firmly they stick to Palpatine's propaganda."

"One step at a time," he repeated, and now Mara got the distinct impression he was not talking about the Jedi Order.

She threw him an annoyed glance. "Out of my head, Skywalker."

"Sorry. But I'm not in it. Your sense in the Force is so tightly strung, it's humming."

She huffed, blowing air upward. He was right. It wasn't eavesdropping if she shouted. Of course, most beings couldn't hear her, no matter how loudly her mind worked. This bond had some much desired advantages, but…

He put down his mug. "Not everything will be worked out immediately," he said. "It will take time before a new equilibrium is reached."

She crossed her arms and regarded him with a cool stare. "Really. You don't say."

"When it comes to the peace treaty, yes." His gaze searched hers. "So are you going to tell me what's causing you to vibrate like a wind-crystal?"

"You don't know?" Her lifted eyebrow was a challenge.

"I can guess, but I'd rather not. I have a feeling either way I'd lose. If I'm right, then I trespassed on your thoughts. If I'm wrong, then I'm not paying attention." He picked up his mug and took another sip. He held his expression straight, but amusement danced deep in his eyes.

Mara stared at him for a minute, eyes narrowed, then broke into a laugh. "Admirable logic."

"Your influence works faster than you think," he responded.

She laughed again, her bad mood evaporating as quickly as it appeared. "Yours, too."

He smiled at her over the rim of his mug. "So what is bothering you?" he asked, his tone turning serious.

She picked up her caf and blew on the liquid's surface as if to cool it, even though it had long reached drinking temperature. She knew she could tell him anything and he would listen, his mind open and patient. But she wasn't up to hearing his inevitable assurances. Even Luke Skywalker was wrong on occasion.

"Change," she eventually said. "It's a good change. A happy change. But as you said, it will take time to establish the new status."

"It's a fresh beginning for all of us," he agreed. "The New Republic, the Imperials, the Jedi, Karrde's organization—"

"You. Me," she said softly.

He nodded. "Yes. And that's the change that has you tied up in knots?" He leaned back in his chair and regarded her, his mind not shielded but too quiet for Mara to overhear.

She made a mental note to move that trick to the top of the Jedi training list.

"Not us," she said. "Not the change between you and me." She put down her mug and rose from her chair, coming to stand beside his. He put his mug down on the metal surface of the deck and stood to meet her, his arms pulling her close. Mara pressed herself against him and closed her eyes, absorbing the feel of his heartbeat and the soft sound of his breath and his warm, male scent. "Not us," she repeated, and stepped back, still in the circle of his embrace. "But not everyone will be as…comfortable with the change."

She expected Luke to leap in with reassurances, to wave away her fears and make gentle fun of her concerns. When the silence grew a bit too long for her liking, she twisted free of his loose grasp, returning to her seat.

"Mara," he began, but the loud, strident tone of the ship's reversion alarm cut off the rest of his words.

Mara strapped herself into the crash webbing and grabbed her controls. "All set, Artoo?" she called to the droid alcove.

Artoo twittered in the affirmative. She glanced over at Luke. "Ready?"

He bucked himself in and reached for the controls on his side, but his gaze never left her. "Mara," he started again.

She held up a finger of warning. "Real space in four, three, two, one—"

The ship shuddered softly, and the starlines outside the cockpit's viewscreen resolved into individual points of light.

"Check coordinates against plotted course," Mara called to Artoo. "And check message frequencies—"

Artoo began to whistle shrilly, the beeps and trills coming fast and furious. Mara raised an eyebrow at Luke, but he had already unbuckled his restraints and was kneeling beside the droid, reading the screen that translated Artoo's signals. He looked up at her, a wry expression on his face. "I believe it's safe to say we've been missed. Artoo says I have at least twenty new messages since we left Comra. You have more."

Mara came over and read the screen for herself. She sighed. "It looks like K'stan sent me every transmission that came across his desk in the last two days." She rose and returned to the pilot's chair. "Artoo, ship sensor readings on the aft screen, please."

Luke stood up. He walked to her side, reached for her hand. "Mara, listen—"

Artoo beeped, sounding impatient.

"Not now, Artoo—"

But she had glanced at the transmission coming in over the ship's HoloNet. "It's your sister. And it's marked urgent. You better take it."

"Ma—"

She pulled his head down and kissed him. "It's fine," she said after she released him. "Talk to your sister. We have four more days on this ship."

His forehead creased. He didn't look pleased. "Four? Shouldn't it be at least six?"

She shook her head. "I just took a look at the hyperdrive readings. Artoo managed to increase efficiency, which will positively affect the speed. Let Leia know we should be in Coruscant by the end of the standard week."

Artoo burbled again, louder. The incoming transmission alert continued to blink. Faster and faster, it seemed to Mara.

"I need to finish my report," she said, rising from the chair with her datapad in her hand. "I'll be in the back." She turned to him just before exiting the flight deck. "We're still keeping the 'new home' to ourselves, right?"

"If that's what you want," he said, his expression unreadable.

"It is," she said tightly, refusing to read his Force sense, and keeping hers as closely guarded as possible. "Let me know when you're done, and I'll contact Karrde. Then we can jump back to hyperspace."

She left the flight deck, but she could feel his gaze following her. She settled on the divan and switched on the datapad, but the words on the screen danced in front of her gaze.

Nirauan, the ship, even Comra – she and Luke had been, for the most part, cocooned from the greater galaxy. Their everyday obligations had been on hold, allowing them time and freedom to shape this new, evolving relationship.

But the galaxy was beginning to intrude. She could hear Leia's excited voice coming from the ship's comm, the words indistinct but the emotion clear. Luke's tone was calmer, but he was obviously happy to finally make contact with his sister.

And in four days, the real test of whether this new relationship would be able to withstand the responsibilities and commitments of their normal – if rather out of the ordinary – lives would begin.


	8. Chapter 8

_Time to Coruscant: 96 hours_

This time Mara handled the jump to hyperspace. The ship shuddered, the starlines blurred, and the soft rumble of the hyperdrive engine filled the silence.

Luke leaned back in his chair and watched her work. Her hands moved over the controls without hesitation, her expression intent but her manner relaxed. Even though she had never piloted a ship of this design prior to a week ago, she ran it as if she had grown up on its flight deck. He was again reminded, as he was on Comra, just how competent she was as a matter of course.

But then, she was as comfortable in a pilot's chair as he was. He was suddenly glad he never went up against her in a dogfight during the war.

"I rarely flew starfighters when I was the Hand," she said, a slight smile on her lips. "TIEs are death traps. No shields, no hyperdrive." She finished entering her adjustments into the nav computer. "Next stop Coruscant. Right, Artoo?"

The droid whistled, a cheerful two-note affirmation. Mara unbuckled her restraints, but she didn't stand up. Her gaze remained fixed on the dappled skies of hyperspace. Through their bond, her thoughts appeared just as jumbled.

"Careful not to induce hyper-rapture," Luke murmured after a minute.

"What?" She turned her head sharply, her forehead creased.

"Madness caused by staring too long at hyperspace," he said, indicating the glowing vista before them. "Hyper-rapture."

A corner of her mouth quirked up. "I always thought that was an old legend used by Palpatine as an excuse to black out transparisteel on Imperial starships. If there's nothing to see, there's nothing to distract crews from their assigned work."

"It is rather hypnotic," he said, glancing at the swirling patterns. "I can see how it could be a distraction."

"I find it soothing," Mara said softly, her gaze returning forward. "I'm not in real space. Real life can't intrude. An escape, at least for a short period of time."

"You need to escape?" That same barrier was still there, closing off to him whatever pressed at her mind. It shouldn't bother him, he knew. She was entitled to her privacy. But if he were honest, its continued existence was beginning to irk.

She looked at him then, really looked at him, and shook her head. "Now? No. Not really. But before…," her voice trailed off and she indicated the view outside the canopy. "When I was in hyperspace, not even Palpatine could reach me. Looking back, I must have known it was the one place where I could truly relax because my time – my mind – was my own." She smiled, but the ghost of old hurts lingered within it. "Maybe that's why I'm so drawn to flying. Not so much because I relish the mental and physical challenges of piloting, like you, but because hyperspace means…peace." She glanced at him, and then looked away. "Or something like that," she said with an eye roll.

An echo of her former defensiveness, he thought. But only an echo. He pictured a young Mara, devoted to the only life she knew, but subconsciously using hyperspace as a place of respite. It fed his growing conviction that she never truly fell to the dark, despite the malevolent blackness that surrounded and molded her through childhood and beyond.

"I've never really liked hyperspace travel," he confessed. "My first jump ended in the field of debris where Alderaan should have been. We'd just missed the planet's destruction. Later, when I knew more about the Force, I realized that the nausea I felt at the time wasn't motion sickness after all." As always, the memory caused bile to rise at the back of his throat. He forced it back and smiled at her. "I haven't been fond of making jumps ever since."

"Commander Skywalker, hero of the Rebellion, victor of numerous battles in his X-Wing, doesn't like hyperspace?" Her eyebrows arched, incredulous. But she reached across the small divide between the two chairs to take his hand.

"Battles take place in real space," he pointed out. "Or atmosphere. I love to fly in both."

She smiled. "Right. Still, never would have guessed about the other."

"Never told anyone." He shrugged. "Jumps are mandatory if you want to travel off-planet. And I'm off planet quite a bit."

"So hyperspace is a necessary evil?" Her fingers danced with his, pressing and withdrawing, tracing patterns on the back of his hand and the skin of his palm.

"That's one point of view. Of course, it's a point of view I agree with."

She chuckled, but her gaze was intent on their joined hands. She stoked his fingertips, and an involuntary shiver raced down his spine. "Perhaps," she said thoughtfully, her head tilted to one side, "we should work on your perception of hyperspace. Replace your sense memory with a new one." She got up from her chair and walked to his, placing a hand on each armrest and leaning down to catch his gaze with hers.

He raised an eyebrow. "And what do you have in mind?" he said, staring into her eyes. They mirrored back the swirls and tumbles of the skies outside. Mesmerizing, he thought, and he wasn't sure if he meant the reflections of hyperspace or the dazzling, infinite green depths.

"Oh," she said, "I might have a few suggestions." She grabbed his hands to pull him up. Instead, he tugged her onto his lap. After her shock of surprise wore off, she smirked up at him. "Or maybe you have a few ideas of your own."

"I do," he said low in her ear, causing her to tremble and bite her lower lip. He leaned back in the co-pilot's chair as his hands found the top fasteners of her jumpsuit, tugged them open. She sighed and curled into him, her hands tangling in his hair.

Later, with her head pillowed on his shoulder and her skin damp and flushed against his, he found himself gazing out the transparisteel canopy at the eerie blue glow beyond. Hyperspace was definitely a necessity, he thought sleepily, but the furthest thing possible from an evil one.


	9. Chapter 9

_Time to Coruscant: 72 hours_

Mara put down the datapad and stretched her arms high above her head, hoping to loosen the knot between her shoulders. As much as she appreciated the time alone with Luke to discuss and, well, explore the various implications of their life-altering decision, the ship was  _small_. Especially for two adults and a droid on a six-day voyage.

She rolled her neck, but it didn't help. She'd give almost anything for a good place to sit and work. The bed, while perfectly suitable for its primary activities, had inadequate back support for sitting and reading. The pilot chair she currently occupied was designed to keep its occupant alert and focused on the business of flying. It wasn't the most comfortable spot for curling up and reconciling trading accounts.

Her mouth twisted. Perhaps that was the real reason Parck and Fel stayed hidden in their fortress on Nirauan. The idea of traveling long distances in one of their ships killed any ambition to make themselves known to the Core Worlds. It wasn't as if she and Luke had seen anything resembling a Star Destroyer in the hanger they destroyed, although no doubt the Chiss could call on larger ships if necessary…

She frowned, using her right hand to massage a particularly tight spot. No need to borrow trouble. If the Imperials on Nirauan wanted to come after them, they would. At least surprise was no longer an option.

Her gaze settled on Luke, seated cross-legged on the floor near the droid alcove, his eyes closed and his breathing slow and deep. She smiled. His choice of seating was even less cozy than hers. Yet despite the cold, hard surface, he exuded still peace. Quiet currents of the Force flowed around and through him.

She huffed, pushing air upward. Maybe she should join him in meditation. The last paragraph of her report had been written, erased and rewritten three times. Letters and figures jumped around her brain, refusing to stay fixed on the datapad screen.

Besides, she was a Jedi now, right? Which meant she had a commitment to Jedi duties. And Jedi meditated. So she wasn't shirking her responsibilities to Karrde. She'd be fulfilling new ones.

And perhaps clearing her mind and focusing on the Force would chase away whatever was causing her muscles to tense. She had a strong suspicion, however, that the closer the ship came to Coruscant, the further relaxation would elude her. She set the datapad down on the small side table and shut her eyes, reaching inward to center herself and reaching out to connect with the Force-

Her Force sense exploded, unfolding and expanding in ways she'd never experienced. It was as if she'd jumped in a deep mountain stream of freshly melted snowpack, swift and fast, shocking and exhilarating. Images, sharp and clear and yet opaque and fuzzy-edged. Colors, indescribable in their incandescence and hue. Glimpses of people and places she recognized, many more she didn't, all connected to her and yet not. Then…there! Something important, just out of reach! She tried to escape the flow, slow down, focus – but the harder she tried, the faster rushed the torrent, pulling her under, cutting her off -

She gasped for breath, her eyes flying open. Luke stood over her, his expression serious but calm. She caught his gaze for a brief minute, and then glanced at the cockpit instruments. A frown creased her face. She'd been out for over four hours. She'd swear it had been no longer than a blink of her eye.

She looked up at Luke, standing silent by her chair. "I think I need that training you keep mentioning," she said, trying to force a note of levity into her voice. It almost worked.

Luke smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I could sense you, but I couldn't reach you."

"It was—" She stopped and shook her head, attempting to bring her thoughts back to the here and now. "It was unlike anything I've experienced before."

"You've weren't a Jedi before," he said. "Your connection to the Force has changed."

She swiveled in her chair to face him. "You could have warned me."

He held up his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, someone said no training on the flight." She rolled her eyes at him and he lowered his hands. "Truthfully, I didn't know."

"What, that I would want to meditate?" she shot back.

He laughed. "That, too. No, that you would touch the Force so deeply," he continued in a more serious tone. "But it is different for everyone."

She nodded, feeling her heart rate return to normal. "Is it like this for you?" she asked.

He sat down in the co-pilot's chair. "At times. The last when I had the vision of you on Nirauan. Among others."

"Hmm." She turned his words over in her mind. "I didn't see anything like that. Just flashes, feelings."

"No foresight?" His gaze searched hers.

She rewound her memory, but it was like trying to grab Bressi silverminnows with her bare hands. The images and sounds darted away, eluding her metal grasp. She shook her head. "I don't think so. At least, nothing I feel compelled to act on." She let out a puff of air, harsh and curt. "I thought meditation would clear my mind. Instead I have more to think about."

"It works that way sometimes," he said. "Not that it's any help."

She allowed a crooked grin to escape. "At least you acknowledge the uselessness." He returned her smile, but didn't say anything. Her Force sense was bruised and raw from the meditation, but still she picked up a thread of uneasiness running through their bond. "Is there anything else? Do I need to be concerned?"

His gaze met hers, wide and clear. "No. If anything, it speaks to the depth of your connection to the Force. But we knew you were capable of great strength."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "So why do I feel you're leaving something out?"

He ran a hand through dark blonde locks, leaving them standing somewhat on end. "I'm not. I don't sense anything you need to know about the meditation. Besides, this is about your relationship to the Force, not mine."

She leaned back in her chair, her gaze focused on him in a narrow beam.

"Fine," he said with a sigh. He straightened up and met her gaze, strong and straight. "I noticed you've been, let's just say, distracted at times. And I wonder if you're having second thoughts. About us. If that's why you decided to meditate."

Her mouth hung open, just a centimeter, before she could snap it shut. Second thoughts? How could he possibly…?!

Okay. If she were honest, she did have, if not second thoughts, then…call it hesitation. Not about him. Never about him. But about all the other...stuff...that came with him. His family. The students at the academy. The other Jedi in the Order.

His position as the galaxy's only living Jedi Master. And brother to the Chief of State – fine, Leia was on a sabbatical and currently only a High Councilor. But still.

Her life had been lived in the shadows, on the fringes, and usually outside polite society's laws. Luke, on the other hand, drew attention wherever he went. Marrying someone whose star shone so brightly: yes, it was daunting.

A smile curved her lips. Yet for all that the galaxy treated Luke more as a symbol than as a human being, she knew he was flesh and blood. Knew it better than most ever would.

It was to the man she had pledged her commitment. As long as she remembered that, the cargo attached to Jedi Master Skywalker, Hero of the Rebellion, Hope of the New Republic could be jettisoned.

She hoped.

Luke still waited for a response, his Force sense still and attentive. But to share her concerns would only cause him to look for solutions where none existed, to beat himself up for things over which he had little to no control. She knew him.

She reached for his hand, putting all her sincerity into her expression. "I'm a Jedi – or at least we think I am - and while I may not have spent a lot of time on Yavin 4, I was there long enough to understand the importance of meditation. You know I take my responsibilities seriously."

His blue gaze searched hers. She opened her Force sense to him, allowing him complete access. She spoke the truth. But her words seem to cast an even deeper shadow across their bond, the reassurance she hoped to provide absent. His thoughts remained dimmed and submerged, too murky for her to glean any insight.

He nodded and squeezed the hand he held, but his eyes remained wary. She frowned. "Luke, you need to accept my word if this is going to work. If we're going to work."

He dropped her hand in order to run his fingers through his hair once more. "I always take you at your word. But—" He stopped, pressed his lips together.

"But what?" Mara raised her chin, a challenge in her gaze, but she also wrapped her arms tightly against her chest. A damp chill crawled her spine. Luke was wondering if she had second thoughts – but what if the second thoughts were actually his? The bond was new and unfamiliar. He might be mistaking his own misgivings as coming from her. Her pulse beat in her ear, knocking a rapid rhythm.

He shook his head and took her hand again. "No, not that," he said firmly. "What did you see, if not a vision?" he asked in a softer tone.

Mara blinked at the non sequitur. "Just…places, people, glimpses here and there. The images were jumbled, garbled."

"Anything more?" he continued.

"I don't think so," she said, and paused. Reconsidered. "No, I'm wrong. I didn't see anything, but I felt it." She exhaled, long and low. "The Force was like a river. Limitless and wild. And I was carried along like flotsam floating on the surface, wherever it wanted to take me. But when I tried to slow down, to swim against the flow, that's when I came out of the meditation." She looked at their joined hands. "I'm sure there's a message in that, somewhere."

"What do you think it is?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes again, but there was no heat behind the motion. "You don't know, oh Jedi Master?"

He grinned. "I have my suspicions. But you tell me, oh new Knight."

"I'm not a full Knight yet," she said. "That was clear. I struggled against the Force. I didn't trust it."

"That's one point of view," he said. "Anything else?"

She narrowed her gaze at him. "I admit I need to trust more in the Force and you're still not happy? Where is Luke Skywalker and what did you do with him?"

She expected him to laugh, or at least smile. Banter back. But instead he just shook his head and continued to regard her with those impossible blue eyes of his. "You were out for several hours, deep and inaccessible. In my experience, that's meaningful."

She rubbed her temples, wishing she could recall more. "You yourself said it's different for everyone. And it did tell me that I need more training. There's still so much for me to learn. Far more than I realized previously." Her gaze fell, landed on the datapad. And when would she be free to receive the training? If her calculations were correct, Karrde's organization was in for a very turbulent six months, if not longer.

Unless…

Was that the message? She needed to submerge herself in her training and by extension the Jedi Order, and leave Karrde and the business she had so carefully helped him to build behind?

The thought hit her low and sharp, a direct blow to her mental solar plexus. She had been so focused on first escaping Nirauan, then getting the Caamas Document back to Coruscant, followed by how to best break the news of their changed relationship to their friends and Luke's family: she never once stopped to consider what would happen after the announcement was made. What needed to happen. Oh, sure, she had a vague expectation of Jedi training here, a wedding ceremony of some sort there, but the practicalities and real life implications of what becoming a Jedi Knight and marrying Luke would mean...she took a gulp of needed air.

Leave Karrde? She had so much invested in the organization's success. It gave her status, respect, an occupation she enjoyed. She'd earned every accomplishment, every victory. She was proud of the life she'd built for herself, forged using her acumen and skills. Turning her back on it would be like cutting off a limb.

But to live without Luke, now that she'd glimpsed the new life in her grasp – that would cut off her oxygen.

She looked up at him with a small smile. "Perhaps the lesson is that I need to meditate more on the lesson. Starting now."

He was still wary, she noted, as if bracing himself for a blow that refused to land. But his shoulders fell a few centimeters and his cool grip grew warm. "If you want," he said, and he held up the hand that didn't hold hers, "and it's just a suggestion, but I can show you certain techniques to help you ease into meditation less…forcefully."

"See, you do make bad puns," she said. "I knew you were blaming Jacen needlessly."

He laughed then, a real laugh. His Force sense relaxed as he started to talk her through the steps. Mara followed his instructions and slipped back into the vast embrace of the Force, no longer carried along like a separate afterthought but wholly encompassed and contained in its patterns. As her breathing slowed, she told herself that no matter what happened when they arrived on Coruscant, she would find a way to fulfill her responsibilities to Karrde while honoring her commitment to Luke. She would.

She had no other choice.


	10. Chapter 10

_Time to Coruscant: 60 hours_

The small ship hummed, the vibrations of the hyperdrive engine a soothing background purr. Mara grabbed two pillows and placed them behind her back, the better to sit up in bed. Her gaze focused on her companion. It was well into the ship's sleep cycle and Luke had long drifted off. A shock of dark blonde hair fell across one eye, and the lines creasing his forehead and crinkling around his eyes were faded to nearly invisible. He looked impossibly young in the dim glow of the ship's running lights. Like the farmboy Mara often accused him of being.

She knew she should follow his example, and she was tired enough. But she was also aware that the hours were slipping from her hold, each one bringing her closer to Coruscant and the decisions she had to make. So she stayed awake, wanting to store up these silent, golden moments when their relationship belonged to only the two of them. Before the rest of the galaxy would intrude, trampling and prodding and making pronouncements. Her meditation made it clear it was inevitable.

She picked up Luke's hand, warm and heavy. His fingers curled around hers, even as his breathing settled into soft snores. She stroked her thumb over the hard nubs of his knuckles and his grip tangled, tightened.

It was still slightly unbelievable to her that she could touch him like this. And that not only were her caresses welcomed – desired, even – but she equally wanted to give and receive them. Needed to, in fact. That she could crave the immediate assurance of physical contact.

Touch was not something with which she had much familiarity.

She didn't come into this relationship untouched, in a certain sense of the word. But while some cultures held sex to be highest, most sacred form of intimacy between beings, she never agreed. Sex was a biological function, commanded by hormones, nothing more.

When Mara was twelve, Madame Golobync, her only female instructor, summoned her to a lengthy meeting. Madame said Mara was in peak physical condition, with an appearance most human societies considered attractive, so she must be prepared to manage the attention she would receive. Mara never used sex as a tool – Palpatine had plenty of courtesans for that – but she learned well how the promise of sex could be used, both by her and by others, as an impersonal stratagem to manipulate and beguile. From that moment on, her training drilled into her romance was a fool's game, practiced by predators to lure the naïve, the gullible and the dangerously credulous.

She didn't need her Force sense to stay far away from Imperial Court hangers-on who thought a palace dancer fair sport, or customs officials who assumed Captain Jade owed them sexual favors in exchange for expedited clearance. Her body was not a bargaining chip, nor was she a toy to be used and discarded. She made that painfully clear to all who persisted in that line of thought. However, sex on her own terms? Mara long viewed it as a temporary itch, resolved by a momentary scratch.

So she had the ship refitted in Comra and she double-checked her repress meds were up to date. When it came to intimacy, sharing her mind with Luke was by far the more daunting step. By comparison, sharing her body would be practically an afterthought. Or so she thought.

But she was wrong. Very wrong.

It was so much...more.

The way he would reach out and take her hand, without looking, as if hers had always fit into his sure grasp. The way she would seek his lips in the dark, brushing them with hers, even as she fell into sleep. Touch, the giving and receiving of comfort, assurance, and, yes, love – touch that would not let her look away or stand apart or remain safely locked inside herself.

Touch, hitting her hard with its present immediacy, demanding she focus, now, on him. On her. On the wordless communication that encompassed two separate beings and made them into one, bigger and better than they alone could ever be.

Now that she knew touch, his touch, she never wanted to be without it again.

Luke stirred, turned, but his fingers continued to clasp hers. She stared at their interlocked hands. Was this as much of a revelation to him as it was to her? She knew their relationship gave him joy, delight. She'd know it even without confirmation from their bond. But did he feel the…strangeness? The newness?

Perhaps not. They grew up very differently. Here, in the dim cabin, his face relaxed in sleep, she could see clearly the young boy he once was. Eager to explore, gaze focused on the horizon, head in the stars. A boy who didn't think he was extraordinary or unique. But a boy who was loved, cared for.

She always knew she wasn't ordinary. Her skills, training and intelligence placed her far above the average Imperial citizen. She held a title, a place at court, commanded her own ship while still her in teens. She was _special_.

But she was not loved. Even then she knew the Emperor's interest in her had no caring in it. She was an instrument, a weapon for the Emperor's use. One he trusted, but one he'd easily discard should she become broken or compromised.

So she did her best to show off her talents. She threw herself into her assignments wholeheartedly, intent on demonstrating her absolute loyalty. She had to. If she lost the Emperor's favor, she would become a disposable opponent for Vader or others, a plaything on which to vent their deadly frustrations.

What would it have been like to grow up with love? To believe she was worthy of affection, just for being her?

Luke moved, his hand letting go of hers. His eyes opened and he pushed himself up, sitting beside her. "So?" she asked, knowing he had followed, if not the exact words, the flavor of her recent thoughts.

"I wouldn't know," he answered, his expression still in the dimness.

"But you were loved," she said. "Your aunt loved you." She glimpsed that during the Force meld in the cloning chamber, when their minds and souls lay bared to one another.

A ghost of smile played at the corners of his mouth. He lay back down and tugged her down beside him. She curled into his side, tucking her head beneath his chin. "My uncle loved me, too, in his way. But I always knew I wasn't their child. And whenever I asked about my parents – my real parents – they would give me a brief answer and change the subject," he said.

She winced. "Understandable, given the circumstances."

"I know that  _now_. _"_  He tugged lightly on her hair. "But when you're seven years old, and the other kids tease you about not having a mother and a father…." He cleared his throat. "It doesn't help when your aunt and uncle refuse to give you anything more than a short sentence or two."

Mara pictured a young Luke, with his enormous capacity to care, eager to know about the parents who had to leave him behind. Wanting to embrace them, even in death. And how much it must have hurt to be shut out of knowing them, even as stories told during evening meals or bedtime tales. She kissed his chest, the soft thump of his heart beneath her lips.

"I used to think-" he laughed, a short, mirthless exhalation- "my father left me with my aunt and uncle because he didn't want me. I drove him away. He would rather die among the stars than be stuck on Tatooine with me."

She squeezed his hand, laced her fingers even tighter with his.

"Not that I blamed him. I didn't want to be stuck on Tatooine, either." He shifted and she raised her head. He turned to face her, the better to catch and hold her gaze. "Did you ever feel that way? About your parents, I mean?"

She shook her head. "No. At least, not consciously. On the few occasions I asked about my family, I was told it was a great honor to live in the Imperial Palace." She kept her voice light, but the old sting of betrayal bled through. He reached out a hand and gently stroked her cheek, pushing the lock of hair he found there behind her ear.

She smiled at him. "All my instructors and trainers emphasized how lucky I was, chosen specifically by the Emperor to receive his benevolence. I assumed my parents handed me over without protest when asked, regardless of whether they wanted to, because one does not refuse a request from the Emperor." She pressed her lips tightly together. "It was only later – much later, after Palpatine's death – I began to question how voluntarily my family gave me up."

"We can look for them," he said. "Many of the Imperial records have been destroyed, but some remain intact."

She shook her head again, a wry twist to her mouth. "Don't tell your sister, but Ghent did a search as soon as he was assigned to the NRI. He went through as many of the existing records as possible. He even restored the datacards found on Wayland." She shrugged, her gaze fixing on a shadow on the opposite bulkhead. "There's no record of anyone matching my name, age or description. It's a dead end."

"I'm sorry." He picked up their entwined hands and kissed her fingers.

"It's fine," she said shortly, and started to tug her hand free from his. Then she stopped. This was Luke. He already knew her, heart and soul, body and mind, inside and out. She didn't have to keep the doors locked, fully alarmed and ready to shut out all intruders. Not with him.

She sighed. "In truth, I had let myself believe something would be found. The disappointment hit harder than I thought it would."

His blue gaze filled with compassion. Once upon a time, seeing that look in his eyes would have made her want to put her blaster against his head, squeeze the trigger. Now, it soothed her to know he cared, that she mattered. "Perhaps your parents are still out there," he murmured.

She shook her head. "I believe my family is long dead. But how much time did I have with them before the Emperor took me? Who were they? I don't even know which planet I'm from." She gave him a half-crooked smile. "It makes participating in Galaxy Heritage Day on Coruscant a bit difficult."

He smiled back, but wasn't drawn off course by her attempt to lighten the mood. "I meant what I said in the caves. There are Jedi memory enhancement techniques. We could try those."

She nodded. "Maybe. Someday. Not now. " She turned to face him and kissed her way from the sweep of his lightly-stubbled jaw to the firm lips that opened beneath hers. "I have enough to handle, relationship-wise, right here."

"One tanged vine at a time?" he whispered.

"Something like that," she whispered back, curving herself around him and closing her eyes.


	11. Chapter 11

_Time to Coruscant: 48 hours_

Luke leaned against the flightdeck bulkhead and watched his companion as she ran through a series of what looked to him like complicated stretches. She tried to get him to join her, but while he strongly believed in the necessity of daily exercise to improve strength and agility, he wasn't a former dancer. And never would be.

Besides, if he joined her, then he wouldn't be able to observe her.

She was breathtaking. And he didn't mean just the sculpted planes of her face and the graceful curves of her body, but her spirit. Her Force essence burned so intense, so bright. A constant flame, steadfast and unfailing.

How had he ignored this – ignored her – all these years? Was it a dark side influence making him turn left when he needed to go right, as Mara theorized? Or had he been too blind, too caught up in external distractions and a never-ceasing chase for answers, when the key to the inner certainty he sought had been there all along?

Or perhaps Mara hadn't been the only one apprehensive about testing the depth of the connection they both knew they had. It had been there on Myrkr, despite the ysalamiri blocking their access to the Force and her hatred for him pulsing strong. Even Han noticed. "Yeah-Mara," Han remarked after they escaped the planet. "You and she seemed to be hitting it off pretty well there." Luke could still recall the incredulous look on his brother-in-law's face when Han was informed to the contrary: she wanted Luke dead.

At the time, he admired her well-honed skills and sound judgment and sharp intelligence, which kept all of them alive in the events leading up to and beyond Wayland. He knew she needed time and distance to heal, not so much from the physical injuries but from the open sores left on her heart and soul by the Emperor and C'baoth. He gave her his father's lightsaber, to demonstrate she was worthy of faith and trust --not only his, but everyone's. Including her own.

But beyond that, he didn't dare venture. He kept up with her movements as best he could, considering she was the acting representative of the Smugglers Alliance to the New Republic and he was…

…anything but Luke Skywalker, former citizen of Tatooine, just another young male free to discover what life might have in store for him now the Emperor's reign of terror had ended.

He'd felt like a walking collection of titles and epitaphs: Alliance Commander, Destroyer of the Death Star, Hero of Rebellion, Last of the Old Jedi and Sole Hope of the New. Every corner he turned, there seemed to be new demands, new ventures requiring his involvement, new requests for his time or presence. He barely had time to feed and clothe himself, much less start a relationship – no matter how much the thought appealed to him.

And then Byss…

A squeeze of his hand brought him back. Mara stood next to him, her gaze inquisitive. "Luke? You're very far away." Her mind gently nudged his.

"Not far away," he corrected. "Long ago."

She tsked. "Acknowledge, move on. We've had this conversation," she said with a wry smile. "We can't go backward, only forward."

"I know," he said, their time in the caves still fresh in his mind. "I doubt I will forget our discussions. I think I still have bruises."

Her mouth twisted. "I was pretty hard on you."

"You were," he said. "But I can take it."

"I know," she said, and she kissed him, hard and swift. Taking a step back, she inhaled deeply. "And I meant every word. But here's the thing: ever since Wayland, we've said we were friends. However, if I was your friend, I should have said those things to you earlier. But I didn't. I couldn't. So," she said with an exhale, "yes, I was annoyed and I took it out on you. But I was mostly annoyed at myself."

He thought back to their earlier conversations, conversations that revealed other pieces to the fascinating whole that was Mara.

"You had your reasons for staying quiet," he said softly. "And I bear the same responsibility. I could've made an effort to spend more time with you. As your friend, I should have. I'm sorry."

She smiled and raised the hand she held, opening it and pressing a kiss to his palm. "You had other, more important things, to worry about at the time," she said with a shrug. When he opened his mouth to protest, she shook her head. "It's not false modesty. The establishment of the Jedi, one threat to the New Republic after another – I'm flattered that you even noticed my moods." She smirked up at him.

"Oh, I noticed," he said drily.

"But you thought it was just Jade being Jade, pure ornery for no other reason than to torture you?" Her gaze danced with amusement.

He burst out laughing. "Yes. Something like that."

"I have to admit, that wasn't wholly unintentional."

"'Was' being the key word, I hope."

"Oh, I don't know," she said, a husky timbre in her voice. Her fingers began to wander in the most distracting way. "I might still find torturing you…beneficial."

He found her hands and held them tight, despite an overwhelming urge to experience her newest form of torment right then, right there. "I thought we were having a serious conversation," he breathed in her ear, taking the opportunity to kiss the sensitive skin he found nearby.

She shivered. "I take torturing you very seriously," she said with a slow smile.

"I hope so," he countered. "You've always been extremely good at it. "

She laughed, and broke her hands free in order to pull his head down to hers for a deep, long kiss that threatened to ignite into a firestorm. He reluctantly pulled away, tracing his thumb over her jawline. She caught his hand and held it to her flushed cheek, her lips red and softly swollen, her sparkling eyes half-hidden under long lashes.

She was right. The past was written and gone. Still, acknowledgment meant examining where he took the wrong turn. "You always seemed so assertive and in command of yourself and your life after Wayland. I would've never guessed Captain Jade was…" He paused, searching for the right word.

"Struggling, " she offered. "At least when it came to you and the Jedi."

"Never would have guessed. Especially not when the stories of you and Lando made the rounds," he said. Even though he now knew nothing existed or had ever existed between Mara and Lando, he still wished she had clued him into that fact a bit earlier. Eight years earlier.

She rolled her eyes in mock exasperation. "We already discussed Lando. But," and her voice softened, "if you must know, Karrde originally came up with the search for Car'das after Exar Kun took you out and I was caught in the Force whiplash. Karrde thinks I don't know what he was trying to do, but…" She shrugged. "And before Tendra, Lando was always up for providing a distraction, especially if there was profit in it for him. I did have to set him straight after he called me 'my lady' thirty times too many."

Through their bond, Luke caught the flavor of just how Mara accomplished that. "Ouch." He winced in sympathy.

"Oh, please. The lightsaber wasn't activated."

"Still, it used to awe me, how sure of yourself you seemed."

"Awe? You? The Jedi Master? I thought we were having a serious conversation." She half-smirked at him.

"We are." He twined a lock of red-gold hair around his fingers, tugged gently. "And I am serious." He looked at her. "I know the Jedi are my calling. I can't imagine my life otherwise. I was told to pass on what I learned, and I do my best to live up to that every day. I believe in what I'm doing. I know it's the right path."

"It is." She placed her hand on his left chest, over his heart. "Because the path starts here. And so it stays true. This is your greatest strength, Luke. Right here." She softly tapped her fingers against him. "I've always known that. From the moment I saw you on board the  _Wild Karrde_."

Their gazes met and caught, wordless emotion swirling and tumbling through their bond. All of the universe seemed too shallow to contain the depths that passed between them. Still, he couldn't resist. "That's not how I remember it."

She smiled, her lips curving generously. "Oh, I hated you with every fiber of my being. Still, I knew it. It made me hate you even more. You were so damn—" she huffed— "decent. It would've been easy to make you a corpse if you'd had a glimmer of deceit or treachery. Instead, you were…you."

She sounded so disgruntled he had to laugh. "Still disappointed?"

Her gaze sparked as her hands moved low, stroked what they found. "Not at the moment."

He growled and trapped her hands between his. "Serious conversation, Jade," he warned, fighting the urge to kiss the smirk on her lips.

She made a face at him, but her gaze softened. "Fine." Her Force sense shifted as well, from teasing to somber. "You say I appeared assertive and in control, but what about you? You rebuilt the Jedi from scorched ruins, going to toe to toe with dead Sith and alive warlords, not to mention the occasional backstabbing New Republic official and garden variety criminal. You didn't seem to have a qualm in the galaxy."

"Ha!" The exclamation flew from his lips. "I had nothing but qualms."

"Really?" She arched her eyebrows high. "I mean, I knew you must've had some doubts. You were only human, even if it did seem you tried hard to hide it."

"I didn't hide it, Mara."

"You didn't go out of your way to show it, either, Jedi Master. At least, not until Callista." Her tone was light, but he doubted it was a trick of the ship's illumination that made her brilliant green eyes suddenly dim.

He caught her gaze, held it. "I had to appear confident, or doom the Jedi forever. There were plenty of voices across the galaxy who never wanted to hear the word Jedi again, much less sanction a new academy or a risen Order. If I gave them the slightest hint I was uncertain about the path, they would have done their best to bury the Jedi for good."

She nodded. "I forget how much resistance you faced. I was so focused on the Smugglers' Alliance at the time."

"But that doesn't mean I didn't have concerns. Or still don't have them. How can I be absolutely sure I'm doing the right thing, teaching the right people, creating the right structure…and what if I'm wrong? What if I doom the galaxy to yet another civil war?" He threw his arms out. "What if everything taught to me was from a certain past point of view, but it's the wrong point of view for the future?"

She remained silent, but he could feel her Force presence beat in time to his, warm and comforting.

"But I couldn't say anything, and risk my doubts dooming the Jedi before I could begin," he finished.

"Oh, Luke." She shook her head. "You could have confided in me," she said in a low tone. "I would have listened."

"Would you?" he asked. "I wish I had known. Leia did her best to be my sounding board, but she had her own life, her own career. I didn't want to bombard her, not when she had Han and three small children commanding her attention. And so yes, when I met Callista," he said, keeping his gaze locked on Mara's, "another Jedi, who appeared to want the same things I did…it was a relief, in many ways."

"I know," she said after a moment. "And I know how much it hurt you when she left." She wrapped her arms around her chest. "I'm blaming you again for not letting me in when I did my best to shut you out. I'm very good at it, after all. Shielding is one of the things Palpatine personally taught me. He had to, so no one else could pick up on my connection to him."

He reached out and she took his hand. The right hand, the prosthetic one. In many ways, his losses far outweighed hers. But in others…her scars might not be as visible, but they were scored deep.

She sighed. "My first instinct will always be to shield. But I promise, I'll learn to always let you in."

He drew her close to him. "I'm not too worried. I have a feeling knowing when something is wrong will be the least of our problems."

She nodded. "The bond."

"The bond," he agreed. He ran his hand down her back and she nestled closer. She smelled of fresh sweat and stale ship air and the caf she liked to drink.

He wouldn't change it for all the perfumes sold on the upper levels of Coruscant.


	12. Chapter 12

By all accounts, Mara should be able to sleep.

Earlier, she put herself through one of her most strenuous exercise routines, topped off with a mock duel with Luke – using whatever materials they could find that wouldn’t punch holes in the ship’s hull - that left her breathless with both exertion and laughter. Then she proofread her report for Karrde, a most boring recitation of numbers and statistics. Her eyelids grew heavy just thinking of it.

Still, slumber would not appear.

She couldn’t blame physical tension for her insomnia. She was…well, “satisfied” was such a flavorless word for the delightful languor that weighed down her limbs, tiny sparks still fizzing and popping along her nervous system. By all rights, she should be face down, blissfully dozing, unable to move after seeing multiple explosions behind her eyelids. 

Luke, of course, was dead to the world beside her. Even without their recent activities, he would be asleep. On Myrkr, in the middle of the forest, blind to the Force and with a blaster trained on his head, he managed to drop off between breaths. He once explained it was his farmboy upbringing, sleeping whenever and wherever he could because chores and maintenance would not wait until he got his nightly eight hours. Mara, on the other hand, spent her youth relying on caf and stim pills to stay awake during missions and slept – lightly – only once she had reported her successes. 

But she wasn’t on a mission. She was confident in her ability to handle any unforeseen event the journey might throw at her. Plus, there was a Jedi Master on board. So why…

Her gaze landed on her chrono, counting down the hours until they would reach Coruscant’s airspace. Her stomach squeezed, and the tension so deliciously dissipated flooded back. 

The journey would be over in less than twelve hours. The rest of the galaxy could no longer be held at bay.

When did you ever care what others thought of you? She punched her pillow harder than she should, and shot a glance over at Luke. Still sleeping. Good. She hated to disturb him--

\--and, with a painful zing in her solar plexus, realized that was the source of her insomnia. The nagging worry had plagued her through the entire trip, and now it could no longer be put off. 

It was true. She didn’t care what others thought. But she did care how others thought of him.

He’d worked so hard. Put himself – his whole self – on the line, over and over and over again. Selflessly, nobly. Well, most of the time.

There was room for valid criticism of his efforts, of course. She hadn’t exactly held back her own opinions. He was only human.

But a relationship with her would be an easy target for the more narrow-minded among his opponents. Her smuggler occupation alone would be a handy weapon to use against him in some eyes. And when her former status as the Emperor’s Hand became broader knowledge – and it would, too many knew about her history already – 

She sighed, and sat up. 

His family. She had danced around the topic before, but now she made herself examine the facts as if they were so much data transmitted by information sources. His sister headed up a government formed by beings who considered themselves sworn enemies of smugglers. And their feelings toward her colleagues were mild compared to the depth of hatred they held for Imperials. 

Of course, Leia was married to a former smuggler herself. But Solo turned his back on skirting the law and almost became a permanent wall decoration in Jabba’s palace for his trouble. Despite his background, Mara always thought he had an even more black and white, good vs. evil view of the galaxy than his wife. As a politician, Leia dealt in shades of grey. Solo dealt in absolutes of loyalty and justice. She’d heard the story of how he saved Chewbacca, and earned a Wookiee life debt in return. 

Leia would accept her because Leia loved her brother and wanted him to be happy. And unlike others in the New Republic government, Leia never forgot Mara saved the twins from kidnapping soon after their birth, at a risk to Mara’s own life and freedom. But Leia would keep careful watch from afar, mindful that greys shift and transform over time. That was okay. Mara could handle Leia’s concern. 

Solo, on the other hand, would remember that Mara had plenty of opportunities to join Luke over the years and never took them. He would wonder what ulterior motives caused her to stick around this time. But he also knew every time he commed Mara for help, she showed up. His concerns might fade faster than Leia’s, actually. 

As for the children, Mara hadn’t spent much time with them but she suspected she and Jaina were cut from the same cloth. Anakin’s dogged insistence on learning how things work amused and, she had to admit, charmed her. And when she remembered, she would pick up datacards on the fauna of any new planet she visited to send to Jacen, who always wrote her a very nice thank you in return. 

To be truthful, she might have sent the datacards because Jacen’s missives always included a message from his uncle. 

She smiled. Perhaps they had all been more transparent that they thought. Certainly if Leia and Han didn’t want her involved in their lives – or in Luke’s -- Jacen’s transmissions wouldn’t have been so…chatty.

But what about the rest of Luke’s life? The Jedi. To the rest of the galaxy, Luke and the Jedi were interchangeable, twinned more closely than his actual biological twin. 

She’d had her share of run-ins with various Knights over the years. Sometimes she wondered if her profound attachment to the Jade’s Fire had stemmed from Kyp Durron stealing her Headhunter all those years ago, stranding her on Yavin 4 and denying her the freedom to leave as she pleased. So she did leave, as soon as alternative transportation could be arranged, just to prove she still had her independence. Among other, deeper reasons. 

Those who knew her during her aborted stint at the Academy still looked at her with sideways glances – well, all except Corran Horn. Hey, if being a Jedi meant spending more time with Corran and by extension his wife Mirax, she was fully onboard. But Corran was the exception to what otherwise felt like an impermeable rule. He stayed in Rogue Squadron, his Jedi status no doubt useful but kept quiet. And he rarely came to Yavin, choosing to spend what little time he had away from the military with his family on Coruscant, or wherever Mirax’s ship happened to be docked. 

The newer members of the Order whispered behind her back, forgetting she was just as Force sensitive as the best of them. They knew she never finished her training. She was dismissed at best as a failure and a washout, at worst as a turncoat and probable dark side threat. 

What would be their reaction when she showed up on Yavin, not only a full Knight but as the Master of the Order’s intended wife? What would they think of him?

“Now who’s being overprotective?” Luke mumbled from beside her. He pushed himself up on one elbow and regarded her with a sleepy but amused gaze.

“My head. Out. Now,” she said, but there was little bite behind her words. “Go back to sleep.”

“Not possible when your head is making so much noise,” he said. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong? Obviously my shielding.” That was another pity about returning to civilization. They would inevitably have to keep certain shields in place, especially around other Force sensitives. “Remind me to replace the Jade’s Fire with a ship that has a stateroom comfortably built for two.”

“Gladly.” He smiled in the dim light. “But why can’t you fall asleep in this one?”

She sighed. “We land in eleven hours.”

“So you should rest. We’ll be rushed off our feet once we arrive.”

“I know.” She sighed again.

Luke tugged her down until her head rested on her pillow. She curled onto her right side, her back snug against his chest. “The Jedi aren’t a social club, Mara. Membership isn’t based on popularity,” he whispered in her ear. “Although it might make things easier if it were. Can you imagine Kyp campaigning for votes?”

Her lips curved in a slightly evil grin. “Come to think of it, his reaction when he finds out our news might have been incentive enough on its own to agree to marry you.”

“Now you tell me.” 

She laughed, but quickly sobered. “Still, it won’t be easy.”

“Mara Jade, afraid of a few Jedi?” He scoffed.

“Not afraid for me. But…”

His grip tightened around her. “They will just have to accept you as a member of the Order. But I think you’re borrowing trouble. You are a Jedi. End of statement.”

She turned in his arms, the better to lock her gaze with his. “They’ll accuse you of favoritism. Of allowing me to sleep my way into Knighthood.”

He shrugged. “We can’t stop people from gossiping or spreading rumors. You and I know the truth. Our friends and family know the truth. The rest is just…noise. It can’t affect us.”

There was that farmboy optimism again. Mara knew well how words could be used as tools of destruction. A well-run whisper campaign was capable of toppling governments. She helped that happen, once. 

Still…he knew the Jedi better than she did. Perhaps for once, his optimism might not be misplaced. She hoped. 

They laid still for a moment, listening to the hum of the ship’s engines and watching the lazy flow of each other’s thoughts through their bond, flashes of color and emotion and wordless impressions. “I didn’t think this would ever happen for me,” he offered.

“What?” she murmured, stifling a yawn. Who knew talking to Luke about her feelings might be the solution to her insomnia? “Us? Me, either.”

“Marriage. A family of my own.”

“Mmm,” she murmured, the sweeping stroke of his fingers down the planes of her back lulling into sleep. “Me—“ His words finally registered. “Wait. What?” She took her head off his chest, the drowsiness gone once more. 

Family of his own? Did he mean…children? With…her?

Of course, marriage usually meant children. She knew that, if only on some sort of theoretical level, like knowing the proper forms of address for the Hapan Court or the seven pressure points on an Ithorian body that cause immediate loss of consciousness. It was esoteric knowledge, good to have in case of emergency, but certainly not information that affected her day-to-day life. 

Marriage happened to other people, not her, so she never thought much about its implications. When she agreed to Luke’s proposal, she hadn’t considered much beyond surviving the next hour. Sharing a bed with him, yes, that did cross her mind and was immediately entered on the positive side of the ledger. But now that their survival was assured – for the time being, at least - she was still wrapping her head around the reality of sharing that bed on a regular and consistent go-forward basis. 

Children…that was a completely new planet. It was if she’d agreed to co-captain an unfamiliar but relatively obstacle-free trading run, only to discover the route crammed with asteroid fields and gravity wells.

She swallowed, trying to work moisture back into her mouth. “Family?” she said. It came out more as a croak. 

“Not immediately.” His gaze was full of amusement. No doubt he’d watched the panic bounce around her brain. “We already discussed how many vines to tackle at one time. Neither of us is ready for that.” He continued to draw soothing circles and lines on her spine with his fingers.

She let out her held breath. “And what if one of us never is?” 

“If that’s our path, we’ll take it. I promise.” He kissed her forehead. 

She narrowed her gaze. Now that she had regained some of her equilibrium, she could tell he was letting her off too easily. “You know something I don’t. What is it? A Force vision? Gods, don’t let it be a prophecy.” She fell back on the pillows. 

“I don’t know anything,” he protested. “Yes, Mother Rell on Dathomir did say—“

“I knew it!” She sat up, crossing her arms tight across her chest. “A Dathomir witch prophecy. Stang, Luke!”

“The future is always in motion. You know that.” He shrugged. “Plus she was elderly, confused. All she said was to say hello to my wife and children.”

“Dathomir witch.” She slowly shook her head. “That explains Kirana Ti,” she said under her breath.

“The future is—“

“I heard you the first time.” She hugged her arms to her tighter. 

“Is the idea that terrible to you?” His Force sense dimmed, dampened. Still accessible to her, just…quiet.

“I—no. I wouldn’t say terrible. I’d just like a say in the matter, that’s all.” She kept her gaze focused on the bedcovers.

“I promise. It will be our decision. No one else’s.” His sincerity, as warm as the sands of the farm where he grew up, flowed across their bond.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to be a mother. Could be a mother. How would she be able to parent a child, when she never had a parent of her own?

But Luke… She thought of the small boy who yearned to love his parents, even if just as a bedtime story. The man whose shining faith in a father he never knew caused the destruction of the galaxy’s greatest evil. Luke, whose infinite capacity for caring and stubborn insistence on seeing the light in everyone – in her - broke down the barriers around her tightly guarded heart.

She’d seen him with his nephews and niece. With his Jedi students. He would be an amazing father. 

Perhaps that might be enough for any child they have.

Might be.

Or perhaps she would surprise herself.

Perhaps.

But not right now.

“Our decision,” she repeated, and lay back down next to him. “And not one we’re making in any haste.”

“I promise,” he repeated, taking her hand, his fingers curling around hers. Perhaps this was what having a family would be like, she thought. Something warm and solid. Something to grab onto, hold tight, cherish. 

She wouldn’t know, unless she opened herself up to the possibility. If she could. 

But they had time. Like Luke said, neither he nor she was ready to take that step. Not when they had so many intermediate steps still left to take. Like getting off the ship and telling their friends, family and colleagues about the big leap they’d already taken.

She snorted. “Dathomir witch. Only you, Skywalker, could go up against the Dathomiri and come out of it with a prophecy about your future family.” She rolled over to face him, propping her head on her hand. “Of course, I heard Teneniel Djo almost came out of it with you as her prize possession,” she said with a smirk.

His gaze widened and he laughed. “Who told you?”

“I wasn’t feeling my best when Solo and I were bringing the ysalamiri to Alemania in his ship.” She felt the directions of his thoughts – yet another time he underestimated an opponent, causing his friends and family to risk themselves on his behalf - and she squeezed his hand. “Acknowledge, move on,” she said simply.

“Done,” he said with a rueful smile, gathering her close to him. “Continue.”

“I hadn’t been around ysalamiri in a while, and the Force blindness made me nauseous. So Solo took it upon himself to amuse me, mostly to avoid a cleaning bill. And it worked. That story did take my mind off my stomach.” A wicked grin lit her face. 

“Han exaggerates, you know,” Luke murmured into her hair.

“Goes without saying. But then Leia told me almost the exact same story during that Corellian mess,” she said, her grin widening. “Your sister makes a very entertaining cell mate.”

He groaned and fell back, throwing a hand over his eyes. But before Mara could tease him with more embarrassing stories related by Leia – like that kiss on Hoth – a more urgent thought hit her. “Speaking of Leia, she’ll be fine when she sees this ship? And realizes we’re deliberately putting it out of the NRI’s reach?”

He uncovered his eyes. “She’ll have to be. The last thing the New Republic needs after the Caamas flare-ups is for someone like Fey’lya to know about Parck and Fel. He’ll just use their existence for his own purposes.’’

“Like creating a new common enemy to unify the New Republic,” Mara agreed. “Which means more military contracts to hand out, more fear to instill in people….”

“Right. More power for him. Less incentive to solve the problems that already exist.”

Mara raised her eyebrows, a slight smile on her face. “I see Leia isn’t the only one with a head for politics.”

He laughed and drew her closer. “That’s not true. But I don’t need the Force to read Fey’lya.”

“Hmm,” she agreed. “So we’ll tell Leia about the Hand of Thrawn, and leave it up to her discretion?”

He opened his mouth, but shut it again. 

Her brow furrowed. “Luke?”

He sighed. “I trust Leia. Implicitly.”

Mara nodded. “Goes without saying. But?”

“Leia’s duty and responsibilities are to the New Republic.”

Mara narrowed her gaze. “And yours?”

“To the Jedi,” he replied simply. 

She regarded him for a moment. “So if we tell Leia about the Hand of Thrawn, but Leia believes the New Republic government should know—“

“Then she’ll inform them.” He shrugged. “As she should. She’s entrusted to act in the best interests of the New Republic. And she does, even when she personally doesn’t agree with the direction chosen by the majority.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Perhaps we should wait. Decide later.”

“Are you sensing anything?” She felt him reach out to the Force. She did the same.

“Not really. You?”

She shook her head. “Not really. Just a feeling you might be right.” She settled herself more comfortably on the pillows. “We still don’t know how Parck and Fel will react to what we did to their ships. Perhaps we should wait and see if they make a move. For all we know, they might be content to remain hidden and out of touch – why risk bringing them into a fight the New Republic might not be equipped to handle?”

“My thoughts exactly.”

Her lips quirked into a half-smile. “And we didn’t need the bond to be in sync.”

He kissed her then, short and sweet. “To be fair, we didn’t need it before to work well together.” 

He was right, of course. They always had worked well together. Even when she wanted to kill him. The tension in her neck and shoulders started to release. Only once it was gone did she realize just how much she had been carrying. 

The bond really hadn’t changed things THAT drastically, she decided. Brought hidden emotions to the surface, perhaps. Compelled her – and him – to acknowledge truths they were happy to ignore or even deny. Created an instant intimacy, making dating and other courting rituals redundant, but also leaving them without the shared history of a more conventional relationship. Yet at the core, there had always been respect, admiration, and trust. 

She could live with that. 

And so would everyone else. They’d have to. They had no other choice. Bond or no bond, Luke and the Jedi were her choice. She would move entire planets if necessary in order to be with him and to fulfill her potential as a Knight.

“Try to get some sleep,” Luke said with a yawn. “Tomorrow—“

“I know,” she said. “Busy day.”

He was asleep before she finished speaking. She kissed softly him on the cheek, and finally allowed herself to drift off beside him.


	13. Chapter 13

_Time to Coruscant: Arrival Imminent_

The spaceport waiting area was utilitarian and sparse, put together by someone with a dreary eye for comfort and an even worse sense of décor. But Leia Organa Solo didn't care that the chairs were threadbare and had lost most of their cushioning sometime around the Clone Wars. She couldn't sit still, anyway, choosing instead to bounce on the balls of her feet.

It was like the destruction of the Death Star all over again. Standing near a docking bay, eagerly waiting for Luke to disembark. Well, give or take two decades, three children, a husband, and a few kilograms of weight. But the reason for her excitement was similar. Then it was the end of the battle, the most crucial test the Alliance had faced to that point.

Now it was the end of the war.

She still had a hard time processing it. No matter how many documents she signed or hands she shook or holos she posed for: the end of the conflict that had shaped her life since before she was born felt surreal. Outwardly, her life hadn't changed. She rose at the same hour and kissed her husband good morning, just as she had every day for years. But the war – the ever-present background noise, sometimes turned down to an inaudible hum, sometimes turned up to an ear-piercing screech – the war was…gone.

Oh, there would flare-ups and mop-ups and all sorts of other ups and corresponding downs. The New Republic wouldn't dissolve the military, not yet, and maybe not ever. And already there were murmurs of discontent and unrest from worlds that wanted the fight to continue until the Empire didn't possess even a Remnant, just graveyards across the galaxy. Leia had to turn off the message alert on her datapad and shut down her comlink, or she would never get any sleep.

Then there were the worlds who felt the Imperial Remnant might be a better long term bet now the war was over and the Empire could turn its eye to doing what it did best: impose a bureaucratic sameness over all beings. She remembered the sentiment well from her days as an Imperial Senator: beings who argued in Palpatine's favor because, as cheerless as life was under the Emperor, they feared having to decide their fates for themselves even more.

Well. With the peace treaty, systems would be allowed to choose. And if some chose to leave the New Republic, so be it. Leia had no doubt they would be replaced by systems currently under Imperial rule seeking to change sides now reprisals were no longer a threat.

But all that would take time. And meetings. And documents.

So many documents.

With twice as many meetings.

Her shoulders slumped. But only for a moment. Then she bounced on the balls of her feet again. The war. It was OVER.

"Luke's almost here. Karrde says their ship just cleared planetary security and was waived through customs." Han put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed.

"The Caamas Document. I can't believe he has the real one. You went all the way to Bastion and couldn't get it." Leia shook her head.

"The Kid always manages to come up with the darndest things," he said with a grin.

"Or maybe it was Mara. She has a way of appearing at just the right moment. Perhaps that extended to the Document."

"Could be. Or maybe it was the two of them together. They're both rather strong in the Force, or so they keep telling me." Her husband glanced down at her. "Of course, you are, too."

"Whatever it was that led them to it, they have the Document now. I know Luke still has all his limbs intact from talking to him. I just hope the journey back wasn't too stressful."

"I'm not worried. Mara hasn't wanted to kill Luke in a long time. At least not that she's expressed in my hearing." Han nodded at Talon Karrde as the smuggler/information trader entered the docking bay waiting area. "'Course, he might know different."

"I wouldn't say kill, precisely," Karrde said with a quirked eyebrow.

The men exchanged glances. Leia glanced between the two, her brow furrowed. "What are you not telling me?" She turned to her husband. "Han? I don't expect Talon to give information away for free. You, on the other hand, spill. Now."

Han held up his hands. "Hey, I know just as much as you. Mara disappeared, Luke had one of his Force vision things and went to look for her, and now they're hightailing it back to Coruscant from wherever they were with the Caamas Document. And I ain't looking that gift tauntaun in the mouth. Not after what Lando and I went through on Bastion."

Leia narrowed her gaze. The Force, and years of marriage, told her when her husband was keeping something from her. She opened her mouth to retort, when the sound of repulsors drew her to the observation window.

The strangest looking ship she'd ever seen came into view, settling gently onto the docking bay floor.

"That's not the  _Jade's Fire_ ," Karrde said quietly from next to her.

"Or Luke's X-Wing," Han agreed from her other side. "Nor does it look big enough to be carrying his starfighter."

"It looks…Imperial. But not," Leia said, her gaze wide. "Wherever did they find it?"

"And what happened to the ships they left in?" Karrde asked. "Mara would never abandon the  _Jade's Fire_."

"Mara didn't say anything to you?" Leia asked. "Luke certainly didn't mention it to me, the few times we talked."

Karrde shook his head, a rare crease making an appearance between his eyebrows. "No. Mara asked for a private docking bay and requested no one be present except the three of us. But she's very particular about which crew services the  _Jade's Fire._  I just assumed she was concerned about her ship."

Han nudged Leia. "The ramp is being lowered. Let's get the tale from the dewback's mouth. So to speak."

* * *

After existing the ship into an enthusiastic, extended flurry of hellos and handshakes and hugs, Mara found herself standing near Karrde, while Leia and Han crowded around Luke. The Solos were firing one question after another at Luke, barely leaving him space to answer before another volley commenced. But the happiness and, yes, joy, bouncing off all three of them at being united once more – and with the war over, of all unforeseen events – made her smile, even as her stomach did its best impersonation of a fish stranded out of water.

She told herself it was impatience. And exhaustion. While she had managed to grab a few hours of sleep toward the end of the voyage, she still didn't feel rested. So that's all it was. She was tired. Who wouldn't be, after a journey of that length in a small ship with inadequate space for decent exercise? And impatient, to get this first hurdle, this first meeting over with and done. Then she could go back to life as usual-

-No. Not as usual.

Go on to whatever her new life was going to be, then.

She felt waves of reassurance coming from Luke through their bond, and blast it if it didn't make her feel even more out of sorts. She didn't need to be reassured. She needed this whole day to be over. She moved away, putting a few more meters of distance between them, and crossed her arms tightly over her chest.

Luke merely smiled and continued to field his sister's questions.

"Mara," Karrde said, and there was a note of hesitation that Mara had rarely, if ever, heard in his voice. She turned toward him. "Would you mind finding accommodations at a hotel? I'm afraid your usual suite in crew quarters is," he paused, just for the briefest of seconds, but she still caught it, "occupied at the moment, and Aves and Chin have taken the other two rooms. The organization will pay your costs, of course. Book the best room you can find."

Mara shook her head, amused at the trepidation on Karrde's face. She'd rarely seen him this apprehensive. Who could possibly be staying in her suite? "No problem, I wasn't planning on staying at crew quarters. And don't worry about the hotel, I—" She clamped her lips together, aware she was about to say too much. She really should have packed more packets of caf when they were on Comra. She didn't drink nearly enough before they landed.

Karrde raised an eyebrow. "You aren't planning to stay? You know we need you here on Coruscant. Are you thinking of retrieving the  _Jade's Fire_ from wherever you left her?"

The memory hit her harder than it should, her ship bursting into a fireball before her vision as if she were witnessing it all over again. She blinked away the moisture gathering along her eyelashes. There, that was proof she was overtired and needed a hot, long sanisteam and soft, cool bed. Preferably both containing Luke. "No," she said, examining her hands as if they had sprouted Ithorian horns along her wrists. "In fact, I need to speak to you about transferring my duties to another ship."

"Where is the  _Jade's Fire_?" Karrde's tone was matter-of-fact, but his feet were planted as if bracing himself for a hard blow.

He also spoke louder than normal. Everyone else in the waiting area turned to look at them. Leia's expression was filled with polite concern, while Han's evidenced all the worry of a fellow ship's captain who loved his vessel. Luke - well, she didn't need to see Luke to know how he felt. She turned back to Karrde. "She's gone," she said simply, hearing Leia's gasp and Han's exclamation of surprise. "For good. And for a good reason," she added, cutting off his next question. "I crashed her. I can't say more."

Karrde opened his mouth. Mara continued to give him her unblinking stare, the one she knew he was well aware meant, "don't ask because I will never tell." He pressed his lip together and nodded instead. "I'm sorry to hear that," he said. "I know how much you loved the  _Fire_."

Mara hunched her shoulders. Sympathy poured from the others in the room, buffeting her like gale force winds. Being Force sensitive had its negatives at times, especially when one just spent the better portion of a week operating without shields and didn't have them fully up and engaged yet. "I did. But I had no other choice."

"I'm truly sorry, Mara," Leia said. "She was a wonderful ship." Her deep brown gaze shimmered with compassion.

Mara glanced away, not willing to let Leia see how much the princess's sincerity touched her. "Yes, well, you're used to the  _Falco_ n." She shrugged. "So, by comparison…"

"Hey!" Han said, and he slung an arm around Leia. "That makes one ship you're never borrowing, Captain Crash."

"Don't do me any favors, Solo," Mara retorted, and threw him a small smile to thank him for cutting the emotion in the room down to a manageable level.

Leia's datapad dinged, and she bent her head over it. "The Council is meeting to discuss the treaty in two hours," she said. "Please excuse me, I need to answer this." She started typing a message.

Luke cleared his throat. "On that note, it's been a long journey. I'm tired, and I'm sure Mara is tired. So if we could pick this up later? Leia, I'll send Artoo with you so you can get the Camaas Document to the right people." Luke patted Artoo's dome and received an affirmative whistle. "And I'm sure he'll be happy to see Threepio."

Artoo's answering beep didn't sound complimentary.

Mara laughed, happy to have the focus shifted from the  _Jade's Fire_  fate. That made one announcement down. Hopefully, they could avoid other announcements until she had caught up on her rest and would be able to fully counter the onslaught of questions and emotions sure to be thrown at her. "Oh, come on, Artoo, you're been wanting to brag to Threepio for days now." She caught Luke's eye and they shared a grin.

Han Solo narrowed his gaze and regarded the couple smiling at each other over the droid's dome. Yes, a couple, for unless he was mistaken – and he rarely was – that's what they were. There was a gleam in the Kid's eye when he looked at Red, and a corresponding softening of her mouth when she glanced at him. Oh, Jade could act aggravated and irritated all she wanted, but he saw the truth. She wasn't upset about being back on Coruscant in Luke's company; she was upset she and Luke had company and weren't alone.

A smile dented one side of his face. It was about time Luke woke up and realized what a great thing had been under his nose all this years. And not just a great thing, Han realized, the  _real_  thing. Someone who would challenge Luke, keep his feet on the ground when his head would fly into the air with all that Force stuff. Someone who had no problem cutting Luke back down to size when he got too big for his "I am a Jedi Master" robes. Someone who would remind Luke on a daily basis it was okay to be annoyed or to laugh at a joke in bad taste or to even get drunk and let off steam once in awhile.

Han tried to take on those tasks himself, but he had his own responsibilities and commitments on Coruscant. He didn't run off to Yavin to ensure his brother-in-law behaved like a human being as often as he should, maybe. But Jade…yeah, Jade would fill the job of Skywalker girlfriend nicely. Han nodded to himself. They needed more scoundrels in their inner circle. An ex-Imperial assassin turned smuggler? Couldn't be better.

Of course, there was still the chance he could still be wrong about them. Time to test his theory.

"My pleasure," Kardde was saying to Mara. "We've gathered some of your things from your suite at crew quarters. I'm sure you would appreciate them, now that the  _Fire_  is gone."

Mara was operating on nothing more than fumes, Han saw. Her normally sharp gaze was slightly unfocused. Luke had edged closer to her, his shoulder now almost touching hers. As if to shield her, no doubt from his family.

No, Han wasn't wrong.

"So when you reach wherever you're staying, just comm me and I'll have them messengered to you," Karrde finished.

Mara nodded absently. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but instead brought up her hand to cover a yawn.

Han saw his opportunity. "Just send her stuff to Luke's place," he said with a shrug.

She nodded, still in mid-yawn. "Yeah, that would be—" She stopped, her gaze no longer sleepy. "I mean—"

Han slowly smiled. "Gotcha." He exchanged another set of glances with Karrde.

Karrde raised an eyebrow, just the tiniest fraction, and turned to his second-in-command. "Mara?"

Luke burst into a laugh. It earned him a deadly scowl that Han hadn't seen on Mara's face since Wayland. "And you thought I would crack first," Luke said to her.

Han chuckled. Excellent. This day was getting better and better. And he meant that, for once.

Leia looked up from her datapad. "What? What did I miss?" She looked at Han. He nodded toward the newly established couple. Her puzzled gaze turned to Luke. Then she looked at him. Really looked at him. And then she switched her gaze to Mara, staring blaster bolts at Han. "Luke?" Leia asked, her tone not a little suspicious. "Is there something the two of you want to say to the rest of us?"

"You know," Luke said, "if you would finish your training…"

Mara and Leia rolled their eyes in unison. "Give your sister a rest. I've already agreed," Mara said, the anger in her gaze replaced by resignation. And, Han was happy to see, some humor as well.

Leia pressed her lips tightly together, but Han knew that look. She was trying to suppress a smile. "Agreed to what?" she asked Mara coolly.

"Jedi training. What else?" Mara shot back. Han could tell she wasn't going to make it easy. He liked that. As much as he loved his wife and his brother-in-law, if you couldn't stand your ground with the Skywalker twins, you were going to be run over. By a herd of banthas. Hungry banthas, and you're in the direct path to food.

"Ah, training. Of course." Leia nodded her head sagely, her lips still held in a straight line.

"Not that she needs much," Luke said, and Han could see his brother-in-law's eyes shining from where Han stood. "Mara is a Jedi now."

Leia's smile burst forth. "That's wonderful." A chime sounded from her datapad, and she bent her head over it once more. "Sorry, another urgent message from the Council." She began tapping away.

Karrde unfolded his arms. "Mara, that's great news. Congratulations."

Mara ducked her head. "Thanks. So, obviously, you and I—"

"Need to talk," Karrde said smoothly. "Perhaps tomorrow, in my office?"

"Yes," Mara said with a grateful smile. "Tomorrow. 0900?" At Karrde's nod, she picked up the bag at her feet and slung the strap over her shoulder. "So if you don't require me now, Karrde, I'll-"

"One last thing. I need to confirm I'm having your items sent to Luke's apartment this evening." Karrde said, with the barest hint of a smile.

It was a good thing Mara was no longer an assassin, Han thought. Karrde would've been dead before he finished speaking, judging by the glare she gave her employer.

Leia looked up from her datapad, her brow furrowed. "Mara is staying at Luke's?"

"Honey," Han said, picking up and squeezing Leia's hand tightly, "it's obvious she is. Look at them." He was pretty damn close to bursting with pride. He'd figured out something before his Jedi wife. There really was no substitute for life experience when it came to reading people.

"Solo," Mara warned. She looked at Luke, green eyes blazing. "Say something. It's  _your_  family."

Luke's gaze danced with merriment. "I'm under strict orders not to say a thing. You got yourself into this. Get yourself out."

Leia let out an exasperated sigh and waved a hand. "Of course Mara wants to stay with Luke. That's not what I meant. But when the holonews finds out Jedi Master Skywalker's betrothed is living with him before the marriage, it could cause an outcry on some of the more socially conservative worlds."

"Holonews?" Mara said. Her normally pale complexion turned ghost white, Han noted. Then the rest of Leia's words hit him.

"Betrothed?" Han exclaimed. His jaw hit bottom somewhere around his knees.

"Marriage?" Karrde echoed. Han had never seen Karrde look so…nonplussed.

"Not that she can't stay with Luke, of course," Leia continued. She turned to a visibly shell-shocked Mara. "It's up to you. But you'll have an easier time with the more, shall we say, salacious news outlets if you spend your nights on Coruscant at our place. The children will be home in a few days. They'll be thrilled to see you."

Mara locked gazes with Luke. He shrugged at her. She huffed and threw up her hands. Luke just smiled and gently took one of those hands in his own, drew it to his lips and kissed it. She leaned into his side and pressed her eyes closed, shaking her head.

Great, now that was a drawback to having Mara around Han hadn't considered. Oh well, he'd just have to remind them to knock off the mental talking stuff while they were in company.

Leia watched the couple with a soft smile on her face. "Really, Luke," she said, eyebrows arched high, "I need more Jedi training to read you? Seriously?" She hugged a grinning Luke, and then a still somewhat dazed Mara. "Congratulations, by the way. I'm very happy for you two." She kissed Luke on the cheek, and then turned to Mara and kissed her cheek as well. "Oh, and now we're  _your_  family," she said to Mara with a cheerful smirk. "Welcome to the madness."

"Betrothed," Han repeated, shaking his head. Who knew the Kid could still surprise him, after all these years?

"I'll admit it. I did not see this coming," Karrde said under his breath. "Marriage." He still looked as if his favorite blaster had just blown up in his hand.

Leia whirled around and fixed them with a regal stare. "Oh, please," she said. "You two conspired to throw them together, and now you're surprised?"

"Conspired?" Luke said to Han, his eyebrows drawn together.

"Conspired. Really," Mara said to Karrde, folding her arms across her chest.

"Hey, it worked," Han replied. Now that the shock had worn off, he was beginning to see his maneuvers had paid off with an even bigger bonus. Maybe now his kids would get cousins before they started having kids of their own. "Better than I could've ever hoped for."


End file.
